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#carys last
purpletrashcans · 2 months
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Frances separating herself into "school Frances" and "real Frances" is so fucking relatable
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friday-answers · 8 days
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they are gonna hate me for this but...
OSEMANVERSE MOOTS ‼️‼️ may i have your attention!!!!????
my lovely friend is a film student who created their final project inspired by radio silence, creating a film version of a universe city excerpt (well, multiple excerpts cut up into one) with some of their own words.
i think it is AMAZING with this awesome fucking TWIST at the end which is just so so cool
if you would be kind enough to check it out, it's here! on youtube ^_^
youtube
thank you :,] hope you enjoy it as much as i do
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I am begging for there to be a radio silence or solitaire film. Like I would kill for it. Please someone make one
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vague-bisexual-crimes · 3 months
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yoo it’s a February Friday this is just like Radio Silence
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artisthedgehog · 6 months
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radio silence is for the "gifted kids" who were always pressured to be smart. radio silence is for the ones who find ways to escape reality in books, movies, music, podcasts, drawing. radio silence is for the ones who care about the people close to them, yet feel like they're not doing enough for them. radio silence is for the ones who find someone to relate to in frances, aled, daniel, raine, carys, becky. it's for the ones who are figuring themselves out, those who are confused. the ones who were always different, either in fashion sense, hobbies, or for being "weird". and for those who, despite hearing the opposite their whole life, know friendship can matter a lot more than romance.
for that i love this book, and for that i love alice for creating something like this <3
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universe-friday · 6 months
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EXCERPT #1:
Hello. I hope somebody is listening.
I’ve had a tough week. Not like I compare the days anymore, as I did when I first found myself in the City; writing, describing, counting all the horrors I saw each day, how this one cyborg was particularly resilient… These interactions have become monotonous for me now.
Something that is forever changing around here, however… The air. Besides its dreadful quality from day one, the metallic dust clusters more and more everyday, making particular spots worse than others. You never realise you may be walking through a bad spot until you suddenly start coughing, almost wishing you had listened to your parents and brought that old inhaler with you. I truly think my asthma might be coming back. The only guidance for your guaranteed escape is the blinding, bright lights of the City’s street lamps and advertisements…
I keep wishing that one of these days, I’ll follow a light and it will lead me to you, February. You truly do shine brighter than the others.
[...]
But, February, I’m scared I’m losing sight of you. The lights, the air… I see one less star in the night sky as each day passes. I almost hope its pollution worsening my view, because if not, the exploded stars must have finally finished travelling to earth, and I’m caught up to the present.
I don’t like it.
I’ve decided I will forever live in the past, where you are February, and maybe, one day, we will see each other again. If I remain in the present, who knows what will come of the sky. I witness its losses of its sparkle the longer I am here.
How do I know, February, that you are still with me? How do I know you haven’t left? It would be nice to hear from you. When we last saw each other, you shone so bright. Would you burn as bright in the sky in Universe City? You never did like the City either. I only wish to get out just as you did.
Perhaps I was right. Perhaps you already have exploded. I would’ve expected you to shine forever. Or perhaps the City has destroyed our contact too. My contact. It was almost parasocial. Voyeuristic. Though I do wonder if you were ever looking for me too.
Is it too ambitious? To hope you still see me? To hope you still care? To hope you never left me in the first place? Perhaps I am too ambitious, perhaps I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. But I could only wish to fly too close to the sun.
Because maybe I’d get a glimpse of you, February, in my final seconds.
[…]
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milalaralio-evart · 9 months
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⚠️Spoiler alerte about the ~end of Radio Silence⚠️
I hate Carol Last (Aled and Carys mother’s) She makes him suffer until he lets himself dying 😤 and She neglected and burned her own daughter 😠
Fuck I forgot to draw the sad computer ;-;
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michaelholdenenjoyer · 8 months
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OH MY WORD ITS CARYS AND ALEDS BIRTHDAY
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touloserrrr · 2 months
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purpletrashcans · 2 months
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What else needs to be on my radio silence pants?
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dualquii · 2 years
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HAPPY BORTHDAY TO THE BEST PODCAST CHILD!! 🌃💕
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calyxthenerd · 9 months
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I think what I love most about Alice’s books is that, the conflicts are more real, like, there isn’t necessarily anyone that’s fully ‘in the wrong’ just human beings making mistakes and hurting people they love, and yeah, some characters are in fact evil (you all know who I’m talking about) but that’s also part of the human experience, sometimes being selfish is just part of who we are (also I think not depending solely on miscommunication just shows how great of a writer they are)
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boilingcowboy · 1 year
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the very big differences between jane spring and carol last is that you could slap jane spring across the face with 5 books all based on “how to be a good parent when your own parents were fucking assholes” and she would change and try her best but if you slapped carol last across the face with 5 books all titled “how to not abuse your children” she would hunt you down destroy everything you love and send you off to study camp for idiots and that’s the very big difference between them and why they should never be compared
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toulouseradiosilence · 10 months
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***IMPORTANT: the stars are always on ur side***
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“I wish i could be as subtle and beautiful. All i know how to do is scream…”
- Alice Oseman, Radio Silence
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universe-friday · 13 days
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EXCERPT #26:
Hello. I hope somebody is listening.
[…]
Thalia has been very friendly lately, old sport.
And I mean literally friendly…
Call me crazy, but how can someone kiss me and listen to me speak so highly of them just to go back to calling me ‘bro’ and ‘dude’... Huh? That’s not normal, right?
I wouldn’t know! I… haven’t really done this before…
Old sport, I know she likes me. You’d expect me to start doubting it now, right?
But I know... Have you ever just known? The way they act around you, maybe even by the way they initiated a kiss… I am many things, old sport, but I am not oblivious.
Why are they trying to push it away… push me away? Am I dangerous? Repulsive? Do the times we spent together mean nothing to her, despite meaning everything to me?
I just can’t think straight right now, old sport. Maybe I’ll just have to wait for this rollercoaster to inevitably stop.
I want to fight for it - I’m willing to fight for it. But I don’t even know who my enemy is yet. Is it her? Or is it myself…?
[…]
I was wondering around late last night, February. I found myself at the mouth of this tunnel. The entrance is illuminated by street lamps, yet, look any further and complete darkness stares right back at you. I was always afraid of the dark.
I was looking for that light, the one they always talk about, at the end of the tunnel. You were always that light, February. I even tried to call out to you.
For a moment, I could’ve sworn I heard you call back.
Perhaps, you, February, finally answer, but how can one be sure it's not just an echo? The voice responds, copying and mocking your own words and pleas. If you're shouting back, February, you have to be louder than that.
The definition of love is so old-fashioned. In every language, I'll shout from the mountain tops how much I am in love with you, truly. If only people would know what I really meant by it. If only you really knew what I meant by it.
If you're shouting back, February, don't let it be dismissive. I am being clearer than I ever have been. You have to understand that I'm serious. I need you to understand.
I need you to understand this is why I do everything I do. I do it for you. The calls, these letters… At this point, I know there’s no escaping the City. But you’re my escape from reality, February. If you ever do answer, I’m free. But for now, I am restricted to merely shouting to a void and calling it by your name.
You must wonder too what to do with that information. I know. But you could at least show me you’re listening. That you hear my pleas. If you are trying to move on with your life, tell me, because I will remain here until I do. How could I ever move on if I didn’t find out if it was you in that tunnel?
Besides, how could I know it was you? After all, we are in Universe City. The sound could have easily been another one of those dreaded cyborgs.
If it’s you, February, I am willing to hear you out, always. But you must emerge from the shadows and take a step into my light. You have to show me.
Perhaps if I cannot see you, I should stop trying to contact you. Am I latching onto a rotting idea that I should just let die? Is that what we are?
How am I ever supposed to get over this if I continue talking to you? I wake up in dread and heartache every day, knowing you’re not here. And, although the City is not a great alternative, I either live my life here or continue to do so with that ache… That dread.
This is no way to live. Any level-headed person would agree… If I can’t hear from you, February, perhaps you shouldn’t hear from me.
[...]
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