#dams talks

[damneddamsy]

hello! 🌼 Interrupting your regular schedule of doomscrolling (no hate, I deeply relate) at Harry-Castillo-yearning-o'clock to say a humongous thank you to everyone who supported Falling. We did it, smooches to everyone!

To the sweethearts in my taglist (whaaaaat the fuck?), those who saw the little notification pop up and liked the chapters every time (yes, I see you, I know who you are, you are getting all the virtual love 👀), to the silent readers who stayed with the story, to the bold commenters, the sweet ones who asked to be tagged along, the emoji and GIF maniacs, and brilliant theorists—gosh, you have made this experience unforgettable. Thank you so much for the love, truly.

There's just a biiiiit more under the cut, if you'd like to read on and have a little patience left 🤍

Now I've read every single comment and reblog on the last chapter, every kind word, and all your clever little deep dives into the story. Your encouragement and joy gave me life—and I just had to take a moment to say this to all of you, all at once.

When I started writing Leela and Maya—mother and daughter, two women of colour—I didn’t expect them to get much traction in this big, vast TLOU Joel Miller community. I thought this would be a small story of apocalyptic truths and life, for a little circle of friends, that might eventually and quietly fade into the Tumblr void. Maybe it would, we'll see?

The truth is, stories centring POC characters often do fade. They slip through the fault lines—under-read, under-recommended, and often untagged in reblogs. There is this subtle, collective bias in fandom and fiction spaces where stories about white characters, or even reader inserts, get all the fan art, the essays, the viral posts, while POC characters—especially sweet ones who aren’t just sidekicks or plot devices—have to fight, reblog themselves, and add tags ten times in ten different ways just to be seen, let alone loved.

I braced myself for that. I prepared to write this story for the handful of people who might relate, or who care enough to look beyond the algorithm's usual preferences. That's the way the internet spins, so whatever. I told myself it was okay if Leela and Maya’s story went unnoticed—because I needed to write it for me. I just needed to release a bit of pent-up stress onto paper. But it didn’t go unnoticed.

You noticed. You showed up. You cared.

You let these two brown girls be complex, soft, messy, powerful, tender. You let them exist. And for someone like me, who grew up starving for this kind of representation, that means more than I can say.

Now, for me, this is big. I don't care if it doesn't meet the quota of 'big' on this hellsite. And I wouldn't have made it this far without you. I really mean it—I might've stopped halfway through if not for the love and patience you showed.

So here's to readers who show up for POC reader inserts and characters, for soft stories, for complex emotions, fawning love, the sunniest daddy-daughter moments, the sexy hoo-haa smut, and for slow burns that take their time. Your support matters. You made Leela and Maya feel seen—and by extension, so did I.

Thank you, thank you. Not a million more would suffice. I am going to continue to write more POC stories, as much as I can, even if it meets the deep end of the Joel Miller tag chasms.

If you've read this far, you're a real one. I appreciate you. Let's fucking go, people—I still have got lots to do!

[damneddamsy]

hello! 🌻 Did anyone miss me? I mean, it’s okay if you didn’t, I missed every one of you enough for both of us 🦋

I figured I owed you a little note on why I disappeared, especially to the few of you who checked in, sent asks, or even just thought, “huh, I wonder where that chick vanished,” you're the coolest. Gold-stars!

Here's the truth: I needed a mindset cleanse. A respite from the spiral of type → ctrl+A → del → bash head on keyboard → repeat. Has anyone else been feeling this lately, or is it just me?

So, I’ve been tangled up with a few halfway fics, and my Harry Castillo fic Dear Desperado Part 3 (which I adore with every cell in my body), but it’s gone through not one, but three (3) full rewrites. We’re talking 3,000 words, dumped, rewritten, and cried over. Every version felt off, every outcome left me feeling shittier, and my delete key and I are no longer on speaking terms.

So I stepped back, because my own story stopped sounding like me. That’s the sign I had to cut the bullshit and hit reset.

Also, I have to be honest: this sweet fandom’s been going through it. The discourse, the fallout, the little implosions. I’ve seen so many kind, talented voices fade out, and it breaks my heart. To see when passion has been at its peak, meet the dim end of the spectrum... it really cannot come to this.

So this little corner of this big, beautiful, amazing, supportive fandom is still here, still kicking, and so am I!

And to prove I haven’t just been slacking off: ✨a little excerpt from Part 3 of Dear Desperado!!!✨

She dragged in a breath, eyes flicking to the dance floor, the electronic pulse crawling like static under her skin. For once, she wanted it simple. No hustle, no angles, no strategy. Harry’s hands on her body, her head blissfully blank, the pain of wanting replaced with heat, noise and friction.

Fun. A selfish, reckless little appetite sitting dead centre in her chest.

“Dance with me,” she offered, the plea slipping out softer than intended.

Harry’s grin curled higher. “Planning to treat my body like a pole tonight?”

She snorted, smacking his chest with the back of her hand. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen hotter poles.”

He unfolded from the booth like a serpent straightening its spine, fluid, tall, lethal in quiet increments. His hand outstretched with that rich-boy charm, dark eyes full of darker promises.

“Fair warning, sweetheart. I tend to ruin women for lesser men.”

“Oh, baby.” Her grin sharpened to match his. “You don’t call me Eve for nothing.”

She slid her hand into his, slender and fine-boned, engulfed whole by his broad, long-fingered palm. For a half-second, that ridiculous ache tripwired through her again. Look, she had a birth certificate stating ‘female,’ a lifetime of sharp edges and sharper wit, but it wasn’t until her fingers threaded through his that she actually felt delicate. A girl, weightless in the grip of someone far more powerful.

She hated how much she liked that.

Alright, so what have you guys been up to? What the heck are we feeling right now, Pedro fandom!

And see you soon!🤍

[damneddamsy]

FALLING moodboard

@mrsmando sweet Mimi, the dearest author of fake plastic trees, harvest moon, and my personal favourite, like real people do, has made a darling little moodboard for Joel and Leela, and I'm just so in my feels 😭🫶 please show her so much love, this is spectacular!

you can read 'FALLING' here! -> masterlist

[damneddamsy]

having my graduation ceremony today after 2 years 🥺🫶 for anyone wondering, I do work full-time, I got my degree but I just kept missing my grad because of work (thank you, corporate life!) and I never had that ceremony in high school, and IT'S FINALLY TIME! idek why I'm so excited, i don't have friends coming, it's just my two helicopter parents but it is what it is! I got a pretty dress, got my robes and that cute little tassel hat, i did my hair, I'm gonna put on some nice lipstick 🫦 yay!!!! okok, phew, wish me luck (because I have severe anxiety and I'm afraid I'm gonna bolt with that degree without doing something important like flashing my titties or posing)

[damneddamsy]

hiiiii everyone!🌻I am truly sorry, I know it's been a while, and I've got so much love and updates to share with all of you! But I’ll be honest, I’ve been in a bit of a tough headspace lately. It feels like I can’t quite catch up with the world around me, and it's been hard to keep up with everything. My drafts are halfway there, but my anxiety hits every time I try to dive back in 🥺 I think I'm just really nervous about letting people down as we reach the end of 'falling'. It'll break my heart if I don't reach that standard I set for myself or the note I want to hit.

So please bear with me if updates are a little slower than usual, or I don't respond as quick! I promise I’m working on it, trying to find my flow again. Thanks for your patience and love—I'm sending it back to you! 🤍✨

[damneddamsy]

hiiiii, everyone! I hope you're feeling great after that TLOU S2 episode godddamnnn ✨🦋 So, I just want to address this real quick. This may also go out to all the other wonderful, fantastic writers and bloggers on this website.

I have noticed that some of you might feel like my (or any other writer's) chapters are a bit too long, too wordy, or “too much” at times, and I get it. I don't know what prompts me to say this, but I need to put this out there for anyone else who relates.

Writing for me is such an unrestrained experience. I get off work, I eat, I turn the valve on my pressures, and I just... write. It's the best part of my day (sans writer's block nights?) I pour a good maybe four, five hours straight, and I know it isn't healthy, but I can't go on without it, you know? It's my way of taking every single fucked up thing in my mind and rushing it out on a page.

Look, I don’t just want to tell a story—I want YOU to feel it, to explore every layer of my characters and push myself to dig deeper into their own little arcs. We writers do it because we feel, and there’s beauty in letting that uninhibited journey of your favourite characters outside the bracket of their fictional world take its time.

And that’s why sometimes I tend to get a bit carried away with expressions and depictions.

But here’s the deal: if you ever find yourself halfway through and thinking, “aw, mate, this is a lot of fucking stuff for just a fic,” don’t you worry! Just take a breather, maybe grab a bite, scream into an abyss, and come back.

Trust me, the extra time you spend will be totally worth it. When you’re done, come on over and hit me with your thoughts—good, bad, worse, whatever transpired, or anything in between! Honestly, just seeing your thoughts spill out, whether in a comment or a reblog, is everything. I love hearing your reflections, even if it’s just a “this fucking killed meeeee omggggg i died dead xx” or a few creative emojis. Anything. I love it all.

It’s what keeps us writers going, right? We write because we want to share, and your feedback? It fuels us more than you know.

And for those of us on this crazy writing journey together—let’s keep supporting one another and sharing the stories we really want to tell, no matter how long they take to unfold.

It's not about the time, it's about the effort. We put so much effort, you guys. We put so much heart into this. Give them a chance. Don’t let your writers go uninspired. Don't let them fall off.

Support your writers. Share with them. Be kind. Become friends, they are all so nice! And even if they don’t always respond (they are a forgetful, shy, edgy bunch of cuties), just know they’re reading every word.

They're smiling, kicking their feet, doing it for you.

[damneddamsy]

Hello to everyone who loves 'falling'! 🦋✨ Did you miss me? I sure missed every single one of you <3

On the eve of posting the penultimate chapter of the series, I’ve found myself at a bit of a low point... caught between the frustration of tying everything up with a neat little bow and the mounting pressures at work. There are days I wish I could write full-time, just do Tumblr full-time, but alas, reality calls.

To everyone who’s sent asks, comments, reblogs: bless your patient hearts. If I haven’t replied yet, it’s not you, it’s me. I burned out for a while. It was not looking good. I might have cried in the middle of a workday because it all just got too overwhelming; my focus was torn between deadlines and hitting the right spots in Joel's dialogue. And knowing me, I got too invested.

But—I made it through! Somehow, I clawed my way back to hit save on this chapter. I had to split the final chapter in two because it got too much, and I didn’t want to bombard everyone with it, so I’ve spliced it—saved the rest for next week. I've also started on the epilogue: it's going to be an epistolary part, too, just like the interlude!

The good news? We are here. We made it. It’s ready. Hope you're ready, too :) I think this one’s going to hit.

[damneddamsy]

hello, fellow Falling fans! 🌻✨️ I have just been informed that I will spend my weekend at my workplace (yes, you heard that right) because I have a huuuuge project submission coming up, and we are nowhere near finished. Got that going for me which is awesome. I was planning on posting the epilogue then, but this will inevitably delay it. Many apologies 🥺🫶

Don't lose heart just yet, it's around the corner! To help a gal keep her sanity, you've got free rein to my inbox :) Please do send in asks on Falling, any Pokémons and easter eggs you caught, songs that caught you thinking of Leela or Maya or Joel, your favourite dialogues or descriptions, anything you'd like, and I'll answer it promptly 🤍

I adore every one of you, and wish me luck! ✨️☀️

Here's a little snippet from what's to come...

TELEPHONE RECORDING #1 DATE: SEP. 26TH | TIME: 04:03 A.M. LINE: INTERNAL, JACKSON, WY PARTICIPANTS: J. MILLER, L. MILLER, M. MILLER

—

[Rustling sheets. A creak of the bedframe. He fumbles for something in the dark.]

J.M: …No way.

[Another ring. Then a hesitant click as he answers. Silence.]

L.M. (warm, amused): Hi, can I speak with the birthday boy, please?

[Long silence. A faint creak.]

J.M. (cautious, stunned): Leela?

L.M. (giggles): Joel. Can you hear me?

J.M: I’m not dead, am I? It’s four in the damn morning… and the phone that’s sounds like a death knell just rang.

L.M. (sing-song): Surprise.

[A beat. Then, Joel exhales a sharp, stunned laugh. Fabric shifts as he sits up.]

J.M: Holy shit. Leela. Darlin’… Holy shit. This is real.

L.M. (whispers): Happy birthday.

J.M (laughs again): I—I can’t even wrap my head around this. You’re on the phone. Like actual… static and everything. How the hell’d you pull this off?

—