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faithfromanewperspective · 1 month

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just a heads up I may take a break from tumblr for a bit (or I may not. I may fail at it which we’ll deal with if we get there) because it’s starting to feel like the news rn. and I know my limit but also my creativity as an activist and how negativity does stifle it and I’ll be a better activist if I step away and focus on solutions for a while.

I might post some of these solutions:: I’m doing a course on making an impact via business as well as my urban design stuff and I’m gonna post some of that at some point, some guinea fowl pics and I’ve got some music for over at @edge-oftheworld that’s almost ready to put up. so I’ll still check my notifs and if you see something I’d like please please please tag me in it??? I will appreciate an awful lot. just need to not see sad world news for a second but I want to see your neurodivergence headcanons and ideas and what you think of songs.

also dm me if you want my Instagram or fb or email or linkedin idk just know I rarely check all of those too but I will change my ways if we are having a good conversation :)

#psa #climate solutions #personal mental health tag #sustainable development goals #just filing under these tags so I Remember #also. I’ll probably write an essay about how shakes inspires/captures my entire life’s purpose and need behind it at some point #and probably come back to brainstorm how the merry thieves could stop climate change in an au. you know I’m doing better when I start havin #ideas for that. so if you like that idea please remind me of it I will forget if I’m not feeling it Right At That Moment #I’ve got a post comparing genocide to domestic abuse too comingwhen I’ve got my thoughts together #but I need to take space to figure out something I can actually do rather than just watching helplessly on the internet which doesn’t help

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timidxtempted · 4 months

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PSA.

I don't fuck with people who go out of their way to shit on things other people like, enjoy, or nerd out about.

So if you don't like what I post? Either just scroll on by, or unfollow me. I don't need to hear about how much you dislike it. I post for me, not you.

Take what you like, leave the rest.

Or... Just leave.

Ta.

#psa #don't be a dickbag #file under:#things im not here for comma you

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givcns · 7 months

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PSA. Unless we have a ship planned out, Raylan's default relationship is going to be with @guttcrson's Tim. Kel and I have built up a great deal between these two. Raylan loves his husband who puts up with his disaster of a life. This doesn't mean I am not open to other ships. Just for gen reasons.

#✶ ── ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀filed under ⠀ ❯ ⠀ psa #kel and i are stuck with each other tbh

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ncmentia · 2 years

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this is a @honeykeats fan blog and if u don’t vibe with keats, i don’t vibe with u. peace and love.

#ooc #this has been a psa #╰ * 𝐎𝐎𝐂 » filed under ; ramblings

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worldsofdreamers · 1 year

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If you didn’t want me to info-dump you shouldn’t have asked

#this has been a psa from me #file under: things i want to say to people irl today but didn’t

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allmyoldhaunts · 2 years

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hey if something important needs to be done and you need me up way freaking early to do it and i put the wrong date on every single form that’s on you actually

#you know who you freaking are #yep it's 2022 i totally know that #but i did not know that this morning #fools and friends: sleep is actually maybe kind of important #little psa #who knew #clearly not me #file this under things that are incomprehensible to anybody but me

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mistydeyes · 7 months

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suppressed feelings of hatred

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: With the 141 gone and transferred to somewhere unknown, your life should've returned back to normal but you still find your self haunted by a singular man.

part i - behind closed doors part ii - hollow apologies and avoiding glances part iii - half empty glasses with unchanging perspectives

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: mentions of torture/violence/cuts/scars, swearing, blood, abusive language, ANGST GALORE

a/n: AS PROMISED here we have part iv! not as heavy as the previous ones but trust me it sets up the next part of their story. i also have a few asks in my inbox with some amazing ideas and thoughts on the story so be sure to look for a q+a coming up!

💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque @strawberrychita @capricorn-anon @rapture2009 @studioghiblijiji @bitchoftoji @mikeswifie

and for @lirikonjaa mmmmm just gotta be searching for that happy ending bc HAHa DARK TIMES ARE BACK FOR ECLIPSE

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

“Love, it’s time to wake up,” you could hear a voice reassure you as you stretched your tired limbs in the warm sheets. You lazily moved the hair out of your eyes as you adapted to the stream of morning light. The room was warmly aglow and smelled vaguely of cinnamon and pancakes. Despite the unknown location, you felt comforted by the figure by your side. “Did you sleep well?” the voice asked as you turned over. In your bed, lay Simon with a boyish smile on his rested face. His torso was exposed and revealed a soft web of silvery scars.“Well enough,” you replied as you put a hand on his turned side. He moved an arm to caress your form. His touch was soft as he ran his fingers along your naked body. As you embraced the radiant sun and his smile, you could feel his arm move up to your shoulder and neck. “What are you doing?” was all you could muster out before you felt his hands tighten ever so slowly around your neck. “I’ll make sure to do the job right this time.”

“GET OFF OF ME!” you screamed as you jerked forward. Your forehead was slick with sweat as you gripped the cold sheets. You tore them off, exposing yourself to the night air of your quarters. You couldn’t help but throw the bottle of Trazadone that was mockingly sitting on your nightstand. It was added to your hefty regiment after you complained of insomnia and the inability to relax. Now you were blessed with horrifying dreams and the image of a singular masked individual.

Mere hours later you made the quick jog to your workstation. You could see your reflection on the shined letters of the wing. THE EDUCATIONAL & TRAINING SERVICES SECTOR it read and you couldn't help but scoff. Rather than a decorated and experienced sergeant, you were relinquished to be a glorified teacher's assistant. As you entered the bright desk space, you greeted your commanding officer with a monotone, "Good morning." He followed you as you sunk down at the sturdy wooden desk with the current files of the newest recruits. "Fresh from Pirbright," he commented before patting your shoulder and walking away. Even at the slight, platonic touch, you could feel shivers envelop your body. You dug your fingernails into the woven fabric of your khaki trousers as you tried to slow your breathing. "Everything alright?" your colleague asked as she looked around her stack of the newest training programmes and manuals. You gave her a slight wave of the hand and returned to the files. "Someone needs their coffee," she commented under her breath and it took everything in you not to throw the stack at her bun.

The day dragged on painstakingly slowly as you flipped through the confidential files of young teenagers, so full of life and energy. You envied their excitement in the photos as through their stoic smiles, you could see light within their eyes. You were like that once, 16 and ready to serve your country. Emphasis on once. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," you could feel yourself repeating internally. When it came to the next file, you immediately slammed it closed, cutting your index finger in the process. You held your finger to your mouth, feeling nauseous at the taste of iron on your tongue. You could feel the pressure mount as you felt the piercing gaze of the office center on your hunched-over figure. Before anyone could rush over with fake sympathies, you slowly opened the file as it lay mockingly on your desk.

You held in all emotions as you looked at the singular picture of the newest recruit. The name and details of the potential soldier grew hazy in your eyes but that wasn't what you found yourself focusing on. The boy's eyes were brown, almost black in the darkened lighting of the Pirbright intake center. The darkness dissipated into his deep eye bags which conveyed sleepless nights and perpetual insomnia. However, what made your throat rise in anxiety and ears ring with white noise was the way the deep-set eyes and feathery lashes stared into your soul. For those weren't the eyes of this random recruit, they were the eyes of a pre-mature killer. The eyes of a future torturer who coincidentally resembled the singular man who haunted your every dream. They contained the aura of a cold-hearted man, the eyes of Ghost.

As you felt exposed under the strong gaze, you could hear someone clear their throat behind you. "Something the matter, Sergeant?" your commanding officer said, a hint of kindness and concern in his voice. You struggled to keep your cool as you turned back to him. "Just a little tired, Captain," you replied to the best of your ability, "you know the eye strain and all." As you covered your lie with a hollow laugh, he shook his head. "Take the rest of the day off," he instructed, "Pirbright isn't bussing them over until next week." With that, you got up from your desk and pocketed your few belongings. You could feel your fingernails pierce into the thin flesh of your palms as you exited. You wanted to scream the minute you entered back into the hallway to the barracks. You hated the way people looked at you like a kicked puppy or the sympathetic tones that laced every conversation. Hell, ever since last month, you should've been ecstatic.

"We're transferring," Gaz said after a surprise visit to your side of the base. You were enraged at the bold gesture as he stood there in his stupid cap. He was in your safe space, the only place you could run away from it all and not have to have any reminder of them. To his "farewell", you nodded as you gritted your teeth. It was a thoughtless gesture that he saw through. A pitiful attempt to keep up appearances to the gazes of the office. "That's great news," you said, fake enthusiasm coating your voice. His smile faltered as he stuck out a hand to you. Staring back at it, you let your facade fall and put your hands back behind your back. "Goodbye, Gaz." you simply remarked before retreating out of his pitiful sight.

Yet as you returned back to your dim room, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions. You kicked the closed door before turning on the lights to reveal a small manila folder on the ground. You cautiously approached it before picking it up gingerly and laying it on your desk. As you opened the folder up, you were distracted by a singular bold color in your periphery. A red post-it note. You found yourself grinning at the sight of it as you held it in your trembling hands. The file's contents were the least of your concerns as you smiled at the words scribbled in black ink. It practically looked like a calling card that answered your frustrations, as if someone knew and shared in your deep hatred for the 141. “Heard you needed someone, contact P.G. You know where to find him, Eclipse.”

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

pairing:dark!boss!steve rogers x virgin!fem reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.9k | warnings: dubious consent ! power imbalance (boss!steve, employee!reader) sexual naivety, height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader], oral m receiving, rough p in v, misogyny, sexism, breeding kink, daddy kink, housewife kink, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, praise kink, spanking, captain kink, dumb baby reader (in steve's eyes), nonconsensual pregnancy, reader loves big mean stevie and loves when he taints her <3

PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.

summary: Steve Rogers is in deep need of a new personal assistant. You, an intern for Stark who often loiters around the Avengers Compound, put yourself forward for the position. You believe working under the Captain America will help you to get in good graces throughout your career. Little do you know, being America’s golden boy’s personal assistant means doing a little more than rummaging through files and writing letters.

—

So pretty, so perfect, so poised. Steve Rogers sits back comfortably in his chair, his eyes trained on you, never leaving, not even to acknowledge the poor waitress who puts his beer down in front of him. You speak proper, each word flowing from your mouth with purpose, your speech coherent, and your voice confident.

It makes Steve’s cock twitch in his trousers as he watches you. Your gaze on him doesn’t linger, but you do flinch when he reaches towards his beer too quickly. It makes his stomach flip, and he tries to hold back the hiss that threatens to slip past his lips. He knows he’s America’s Golden Boy, and that he’s supposed to be better than this; but he was raised in the 1930’s, and his ideals surrounding women never really fizzled out.

Your voice fades back in, and as you address him, it snaps Steve out of his train of thought. “So, I’m sure now that we’re well acquainted with each other, Captain Rogers—“

“Please. Just call me Steve. We’ve known one another long enough.”

He quirks a brow as your cheeks flood over in red, before beckoning you to continue your speech. “Well, then, Steve,” you swallow thickly, your voice dropping a few octaves, and Steve senses that he’s embarrassed you. “Now that we’re well - uh, better - acquainted, I hope that you can consider me for the position of your personal assistant.”

“What?” Steve’s blue eyes bore into yours, and they make you brood in anxiety. You feel childish, sitting in front of him in a flowery dress, at what could somewhat be considered an interview, asking to work for him. Perhaps you should’ve dressed nicer, more work appropriate? Yet, before you can blubber on, Steve continues; “doll, if you wanted to work for me, you could’ve just said. Did you do all of this to ask for the position?”

He blinks at you. Embarrassment washes over you like a tsunami wave as you blink back at him. Of course, you could’ve just said you wanted to work for him - you feel naive ever thinking otherwise. Steve’s not a stranger, you practically work with him every day, and he'd be more than enthusiastic to hear you out. He's not one of. the guys at work who ignore women and everything they have to say. He’s nice enough to always say hello to you and sometimes buy you coffee, and flowers if you were down. He's one of the good ones!“I thought it might’ve been inappropriate to ask you whilst you were training.” You shoot him a small smile, trying to ignore how the upwards tug of his lips makes your skin rise with goosebumps.

“Does Stark know you’re applying for this role?”

"He’s actually the one who suggested it.”

Steve takes a long sip of his drink. He stares at you over the rim of the glass, watching you squirm and ponder over his answer. He already knows the answer to your question, but watching you shuffle in your seat and act silly in front of him makes his cock throb, and he enjoys the feeling. You’re so innocent, pressing against the table, wide-eyed, acting as though your tits aren’t pressed together and basically on display for him. The dress is so low-cut. It makes him want to take you right here.

Did you wear that just to get him riled up? “Well, I can’t think of anybody more suitable to fit the position. You know the Compound, you know my office, and I’ve noticed you get on well with higher authorities. You seem like a doting employee.” He kisses his teeth slightly, looking down at the table, before looking up at you through his lashes. He tries to hold back the smirk on his face as he speaks, but it’s impossible not to: “of course, you will also be expected to work somewhat more flexible hours. Later start times, later finishes. We won't always be in the office at the compound - a lot of my additional work files are at my personal home office, but I can always make you up a key to give you easier access."

“Of course,” you chirp, nodding at him enthusiastically. “I’m okay with longer hours, and I can work around you and what you need.”

Steve grins. “Perfect.”

—

It has been about three weeks since you left your position as an intern at Stark Industries and began working for Steve Rogers. It was an exhausting process at first; the sudden change in routine, the heavy workload, the unsociable hours, and Steve often worried you would change your mind. If you couldn't bend for this position, you would break, and he was incredibly worried you'd do the latter. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen you frown so often before, but during the first fortnight of working as his assistant, your lips were always somewhat tugged downwards, and you were always so busy, unable to even joke with him.

You soldiered on, though. Managing to catch up to months worth of missed calls, avoided emails, old paperwork, and forgotten documents. Steve praised you every time you completed a task, and often he found you beaming up at him, prideful and flustered.

Yet, whilst peeking up from his desktop, he finds himself annoyed. You’re sitting quietly opposite him, noting down things and scheduling appointments, and he can’t help the twitch of his cock as he watches you do it. You're not incredibly busy anymore, and yet you're not engaging in any conversation with him. Steve knows you value professionalism, but he only really let you have this job because of his alternative motives when it comes to you.

His eyes flicker back to the computer screen, and then back to you. It's like before his brain can register what he's doing; he's doing it, but he doesn't mind. This is his office, after all, his space. You're his assistant, and if anything, you're supposed to assist him in doing it. His hands are wrapped around his thick, angry cock, and he pumps slowly, watching you intensely.

You're tapping away at your computer so innocently. Your eyes are wide and interested, and clearly whatever your scheduling for Steve has your entire attention because you don't even look up at him. He strokes his cock carefully, and slowly, and his breathing wavers as he runs a finger over his angry, red tip, using some of his precum for lube.

“You okay, Steve?” your voice fills the quiet room, and he looks over at you, his hands still wrapped around his cock. The naivety of your tone makes his cock twitch in his hands, and his pace slows. He makes eye contact with you, never breaking it as he slowly strokes his hand up and down his length. It makes him so much harder that you have no idea what he's doing, and he imagines what your lips would feel like wrapped around him.

“Fine, doll. Just a little sore.” Steve purses his lips as you nod. He meets your eyes, and you hold his gaze, concern plastering over your face.

You're so... modest. Completely unaware of what he's doing, and he loves it. Steve craves you; craves to taint the innocence which consumes you. You're too trusting for your own good, and one of these days, it's going to get you hurt.

Steve just needs to make sure it's him that hurts you, and nobody else.

“You do look awfully red, Steve.” You murmur across from him, concern painting your features. The heavy gaze your boss has on you makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, but worry overrides any instinctive emotion. “Do you feel hot?”

Steve grunts in agreement with your question. He looks more disheveled than usual. His posture seems hunched, but he seems somewhat relaxed, and his gaze is hard and trained on you. You're unsure as to what's wrong - he's so red, it looks like he's burning up. Perhaps he has a fever, but you're sure the Super Soldier Serum ensures that he doesn't get ill. “Can I get you anything? Paracetamol? A glass of water?” you ask innocently, standing up from your desk chair, slowly walking towards him.

His computer monitor thankfully covers his crotch. Steve’s eyes don’t leave you, and it makes his cock leak when you softly begin to walk over to him. He’s almost certain you own nothing but inappropriate, seductive clothing; he’s seen more of your cleavage these past three weeks than he has anyone else’s, and it’s driving him crazy. The fact he’s managed to hold off from devouring you is insane, but he isn’t sure how much longer he can take.

Being the nice guy just doesn’t seem to be working. The hand which was stroking his cock stills, and he commands you to stop once you’re mere inches away, stood behind his monitor, so small he can hardly see you. “Do you own any appropriate clothing?”

His question is direct and his tone is reprimanding. Your knees wobble, and your head hangs slightly. Shame spreads throughout your body. “I didn’t realise this was inappropriate. My apologies.”

It’s unlike Steve to bark at you. Usually, he’s incredibly soft-spoken and considerate, yet it seems you’ve worn any patience he’s held for you thin. “Doll, every outfit you’ve worn this week has been low-cut and short.” He breathes, and your neck prickles with discomfort when you notice how dark and blown his pupils are. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been kind. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I don’t think these kinds of… outfits would be appropriate elsewhere. You didn’t wear these outfits when interning for Stark.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Your subordinate manner only makes his cock twitch more, and he’s thankful his hand is sheathing his cock, because the precum that trickles out of its covers his skin and not his trousers. “I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”

It’s painful to let go of his length, but he has to, and he shoves it back inside of his trousers and innocently buttons them up. “Are you wearing these suggestive outfits to get a rise out of me?”

You gasp. “No. Never. I - Sir, I aim to be as appropriate and considerate as possible. I’m sorry I’ve been misleading you.” Steve rises from his seat, and you swallow thickly, feeling incredibly small compared to your boss. You’ve often been close to him - side by side, brushing shoulders, but he’s always been soft-spoken and gentle, apologetic and genuinely caring. Now, it seems like his patience is worn thin, and as opposed to seeing a civilian Steve, you feel as though you're standing in front of a soldier. “I can go and change now if you want?”

“No.” His tone is so low it matches that of a growl, and you cower weakly as he towers over you. Fear pulsates in your being as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling incredibly unsafe, and your heart races in your chest. Steve would never hurt me, you remind yourself, he’s one of the good ones.

You open your mouth to speak, but Steve shushes you. His finger splays over your lips, and you feel scolded and childlike. “I think you do it for attention.” His finger pushes against you, as does his body, as he stalks forward and you shuffle backward, trying to keep any space between the two of you. “You know, it’s been hard staying silent for this long. Watching you from afar, never knowing what to say or do.” His hot breath fans your ear, and Steve’s nostrils flare. “Trying to be a gentleman. Buying you coffee and flowers and cards when you were working at the Compound as a way to be friendly and nice. But I don’t think you want that.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You squeak out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Steve’s fingers gently press against your skin, wiping away any that spill, his skin icy against your own. “I-I’ve appreciated the gifts. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He asks, his eyes shooting down at you. You nod your head eagerly, staring up at him, trying to ignore how the dark look in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “I don’t think you’re truly sorry. I gave you this job to be my personal assistant. I expected more of you. You’re dressing as whore, and you can’t even apologize correctly.”

You swallow thickly, staring up at him. “‘M sorry. I haven’t meant to present myself that way,” your voice wavers. “What would y-you deem a suitable apology, Steve?”

“Captain.” Steve’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you squeak slightly as he tugs at it. “You only get to call me Steve when you’ve been good, which you haven’t.”

“How should I apologize, Captain?”

Your voice is an incredulous whisper. The subordination you show drives Steve crazy, and it takes everything in him not to force your mouth open and push you onto his cock. No, he needs to coax you into it - make you agree that this is the best way to apologize. Any other way wouldn’t suffice.

It’s as though you can’t believe this is happening - and in a way, Steve can’t, either. He’s always imagined this happening - having you begging him to tell you how to do something in a way that’s deemed fit in his eyes, having you be in pain whilst doing it. He curses slightly, before breathing out, “use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘use that pretty little mouth of yours to worship me’. Don’t expect me to repeat myself again.” He warns, blinking down at you, before muttering, “you’ve dressed like a whore, sweetheart. I think it’s only fair the Captain treats you as such.” His thumb drags down your lips, and you look up at him with such hesitation it makes his balls throb. He feels as though the look on your face could make him cum already.

Warmth floods over your cheeks. It feels wrong as Steve’s palms press heavily on your shoulders, the weight of him coaxing you down. A shudder leaves you as he forces you onto your knees in front of him, and you stare at his trousers, which are tight by the groin. “Captain, I don’t think -“ you swallow thickly, shaking as he comes down to unbutton his trousers, and flinching once his hands clasp yours, “-I don’t think this is appropriate.”

Your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, and he glares down at you, relishing in your embarrassment. Your eyelashes are wet and tears prickle your eyes still, “You’re on your knees now, doll.” He huffs, blowing out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. Your hands shake as he guides them to his trousers. “You might as well get on with it.”

“No I - I don’t want to.” Your voice wavers as he uses your hands to pry his cock out of his trousers, which is an angry red and seeping with cum, and you feel like scurrying away from it. “I-I haven’t ever done anything like this before.” Steve is stronger than you and the grip he’s got on your wrists makes you feel as though they will snap, so you decide not to, rather cowering away from his length in fear.

“Are you a virgin?” His question makes your head shoot up in embarrassment, your eyes wide and distraught, and he groans. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking virgin.”

“I never said I was,” you mutter, yelping when his hands strike you against the face. Fresh tears fall over old tear stains, and you flinch as his fingers splay over your chin.

He tuts. “Don’t lie to me. Are you a virgin?”

“Yes,” you murmur, shameful, eyes watery as you stare up at him. You sniffle, thankful for his gentle touch, which replaces the cruelty of his hands seconds ago. It makes your heart bloom with warmth as he brushes your face softly with his fingers, although he’s wiping away the pain he’s caused.

“My pretty little baby’s a virgin,” Steve coos, and the tone of his voice makes pressure form in your lower belly. “This mouth has never been around anyone’s cock before? Ever?”

There’s almost a deluded tone in his voice as he presses his tip against your lips. You quiver below him, your eyes trained on him as he pushes himself in your mouth. It feels wrong to do this with him - it feels exploitative, and whilst you opt to pull away from him, the wetness in your panties warns you otherwise. You’re enjoying this, and it’s making you feel terrible. You’re letting your boss take advantage of you and you love it.

You'd be lying if you denied the fact that you found Steve attractive. You had a thing for blonds, and the Golden Boy reputation he had made butterflies form in your belly. The fact he was so unlike what he seems makes your thighs clench and your pussy throb. A Golden Boy with an urge to taint; and somehow, you want to be tainted.

You hum against his cock, and it makes Steve’s stomach explode with heat. The wet of your tongue and the hot of your mouth is everything he’s ever wanted and more, and as your teeth scrape against him, he hisses, trying to hold back the smack he wants to deliver to you. You’re not ready for that yet; you’re a virgin, a sweet girl who needs taking care of. He needs to be gentle with you. “Nuh-uh-uh, doll. Cover those teeth of yours and hollow your cheeks - yes, like that, baby."

Steve breathes heavily as you take it in. It feels intrusive to your mouth as you suck on his cock, your tongue swirling up and down his tip. His hands make their way into your hair, and he gently begins to slide your head up and down, going at a quicker pace. It makes your belly ache with warmth as he does it, the feeling of his hands wrapped in your hair making you feel surprisingly... horny? It makes your face flush when you realize you're enjoying being used by Steve, and you eagerly begin to run your tongue up and down his length, tracing his veins and making sure to pay extra attention to his tip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his balls slapping against your chin uncomfortably, “make your daddy’s cock nice and wet.” Steve’s pace quickens, and more and more of his cock forces its way into your mouth until your eyes are pricking with tears and you’re almost certain his length is going to suffocate you. Gag after gag follows through with each desperate thrust of his hips, and you clasp your hands around his thigh, looking up at him, eager to breathe. He doesn’t let you.

“My perfect little girl. Let daddy cum in your mouth and he’ll forgive you for dressing like such a whore.”

It’s not like you’ve got much of a choice anyway. In Steve's eyes, he's waited long enough to paint you in his cum, and it doesn’t take long for him to finish. He pulls out slightly, spewing cum over your cheeks and lips, grunting with approval at the sight of you. His innocent little personal assistant, who has never felt a man’s cock before today, has just had her throat fucked as though she were a fleshlight. Steve groans, steadying himself by using your head for support, and your nose crinkles as you swallow his cum which had painted your tongue.

It doesn't taste that bad.

“Best you clean yourself up.” Steve murmurs as you clamber up, knees shaking, the heat between your legs throbbing. “I don’t want my personal assistant to look so... defiled whilst she’s working alongside me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As you attempt to scurry off to the bathroom, Steve stops you. “I want to make a few things clear about your position as my personal assistant, doll.”

You nod your head, uncertain as to what he might say next. The sight of you covered in his cum makes his heart bloom with pride, and he realises that he has finally got you where he wants you to be. “Your role as my personal assistant is to assist me with anything I deem necessary. Whether that be sexual or otherwise. You got that?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good girl.”

—

Your body has been aching and sore for days. Forcing yourself up from your desk chair, you jolt slightly at the sudden pain which shoots up through your spine. You look away from Steve’s hot gaze, which makes you feel flustered and funny, and you begin to flip through pages in your folder, desperate to keep yourself occupied and not draw too much attention from Steve.

“Come here, doll.” His voice is gentle, his arms wide and open, urging you in.

You nod your head, opting to agree. You've become conditioned to his sexual advances, and he accepts when you're not in the mood, saying that he doesn't want to pressure you. Steve is a good guy in that way; he wants you to move at your own pace. You only have to do this for a few more months or so, as that’s how long your contract is.

Steve taps his lap. You comply, carefully seating yourself atop of him, crinkling your nose when he gets too close. He notices, but he doesn’t care, leaning backward slightly and brushing a curl away from your face.

“What have I done for you to hate me?” his once confident voice is quiet, oozing with rejection.

You blink at him. “I - I don’t hate you.”

Steve hums, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You shuffle uncomfortably in his lap, looking up at him with big, doe eyes, and it makes his cock twitch. You’re so innocent, so friendly, a big baby that needs protecting from the world. All Steve wants to do is protect you and keep you safe. “You don’t look at me the same anymore,” he notes quietly. “You used to look at me like I was a savior before you started working under me.”

You shuffle uncomfortably, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves slightly to get comfortable, and your breath hitches in your throat when his clothed crotch rubs against yours. “I still think of you as a savior, Stevie,” you murmur quietly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

You’ve worked for Steve long enough now to know that the way around difficult conversations is to stroke his ego. His hand snakes around your back, and he traipses his fingers up and down your back slowly. “No bra, huh? What have I told you about dressing appropriately?”

“S-sorry, Steve.”

“Mmm, I forgive you, baby.” His hands fall to your skirt, and his fingers slowly ride up them. The material parts with the moving of his hands, and your body flushes with heat when his finger slides up and down your slits. He tuts. “No underwear, either? This'll be a little harder to forgive.”

You squeak slightly as Steve pushes a finger inside of you. “Y-you asked me not to wear underwear when I'm around you.”

“Nuh-uh-uh. I don’t remember that, doll. Don’t make things up to try and make yourself better off.” Except, he does remember it because he practically commanded you to strip your underwear off the last time you wore some when working alongside him. But you don’t need to remember that. Steve wants you to believe everything you do for him is because you want to do it, not because he’s told you to.

“Really?” you squeak as he curls his finger inside of you, ensuring he hits against your spongy spot. You try to ignore the heaviness of Steve’s gaze, and you swallow dryly, stuttering as Steve slips another digit in, beginning to fuck you faster with a ‘come-forth’ motion.

“Yeah, doll. Maybe you just wanted your daddy to have easier access to this pretty pussy of yours. I know how much you like getting that little pussy touched.”

His fingers slow down inside of you, and he gazes down at you with a raised brow. You protest, trying to roll against his fingers, but he grabs your thighs and shakes his head. “Bad girls don’t get to feel good.”

“I’m not bad," you whine, and Steve shakes his head in response.

“You lied to daddy. Said he wanted you to wear no underwear. You said it like I’ve been forcing you not to wear underwear when it was your decision.”

The sharpness in his tone makes you recoil, and you still your lower half. against him, not wanting to make him anymore angrier than he already is. “I-I’m sorry. It was my decision. I’m sorry for lying.”

Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, I’ve been holding back these past weeks. I wanted to break you in.” He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whine in protest, but your sounds are muffled when he shoves them inside of your mouth. You suck instinctively, and he groans against you. “I’ve been wanting to use that pretty pussy of yours for so long, doll. Been wanting to defile you and make you mine.”

Before you can even react, the tip of his cock is pressing against your slits. “I’ve wanted to fuck you and fill you up with my cum for so long now.” His voice is a growl, and you feel frozen in place, beginning to slowly shake your head. “Fuck you full of my babies. And I know you want that, too.” He groans as he presses harsh kisses against your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“No, Steve,” you breathe heavily as he holds you into place, your own body no match for the strength of his. “I- I don’t want that. I'm not ready for a baby."

“But you are. You just don’t know it yet.” His cock pushes into you, and you let out a whimper, struggling against him. Your walls sheathe him, and you let out a pained squeak. "Look at how well you take me, baby. You were made for me. You’re so wet for me. Look at you, trying to deny your rightful place as my subordinate. My pretty little girl.”

He forces his cock into you slowly. Your walls squeeze around him, sheathing his cock so well, and you whimper, squeezing your nails into his shoulders so hard you feel as though you're going to leave behind crescent moons. "No, Steve," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut, desperately trying to get rid of the burn between your leg. "'t hurts. Stevie, I'm not ready."

"You're ready, baby," he seethes, throwing his head back slightly as he pushes his hips up further. "Your little virgin pussy is hugging my cock so fucking tight."

A mewl escapes you as his cock brushes up against the spongy spot inside of you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and mascara begins to brew below your lash line. Steve stares at you, his gaze passionate, wondering how he ever got so lucky. Not only has he got you exactly where he needs you, but he's also ruining you, tainting you for other men.

The only way he can truly ensure other men will leave you alone is to fill that belly of yours with his baby, so that's exactly what he intends to do. "Does that feel good?" he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. "You feel so full, baby?"

"So full, Steve," you whine, trying to adjust yourself to gather more comfort. Your walls rub against his cock as you adjust, and it feels kind of... good, so you do it again. Your hips slowly roll atop of him, and you whimper to yourself, pain mixing with pleasure.

Steve lets you bounce on him. It's a slow pace, and it doesn't hurt, though it feels unnatural to have something this big inside of you. It's not that you're entirely sexually naive - you've masturbated before, but this is completely different. Steve is huge, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel him. There's no room for escape, and your stomach flips as you throw your arms around his neck. "Steve," you breathe, eyes flittering shut as the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, your toes curled in desperation. It feels as though you're just inches away from experiencing pure ecstasy, but you can't reach it, and it's making you so frustrated, you feel as though you could cry. "H-help me, Steve."

"You want Daddy's help when getting off?" he coos, brushing a curl away from your face. You stare down at him, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, and he groans slightly. So cute, so small, so ready for him. This is how you should be - begging for his help, needing him, relying on him. You're just a woman, after all; you need a big, strong man like Steve to take care of you.

His hips thrust up, and it's incredibly painful at first. Steve's pace is nothing compared to yours - you were being slow and gentle with your body, and he just wants to ruin it. His hips smash into you, his cock sliding in and out, and he peppers harsh kisses against your neck. You mewl against him, pressing up against his chest to feel him, your toes curling in your flats, your eyes dazed, mouth gaping. You look like a picture-perfect image, and Steve grunts as he fucks you, wanting to tip you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until the coil snaps. You murmur and shake against him, your thighs clenched as you cum, squirting all over his cock, drenching his balls and trousers. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you yell against him, his cock relentlessly fucking you throughout your orgasm.

"I'm gonna fill you with my babies," he growls, "drown your pussy with my fucking cum."

"No," you cry out, unable to move as he thrusts himself into you; again and again and again. You feel so helpless, so small and weak against him, and you stare up at him. His pupils are dark and blown, and his Adam's apple bobs desperately, his nostrils flaring as his cock twitches inside of you. "Please, pull out!"

"I don't think so, baby," he grunts, and with one final thrust of his hips, he finishes inside of you. Your walls squeeze him simultaneously, and he lets out a low, powerful groan, as he coaxes your walls with his cum. "Gotta make you a nice little housewife. Gonna have you popping out all of my babies."

Steve brushes away the tears which slip down your cheeks. He doesn't even realize how hard he's been holding you until he lets go, your arms riddled with handprint marks which he's sure will bruise. "Don't cry, doll," he murmurs, "you knew what came with the job."

"No, I didn't," you sniffle, pressing your head into his neck. It's wrong how his warmth and his smell act as a safety valve for you when he's the reason you're so upset. "I would've never - I would've never gotten into this if I knew what you expected from me."

A gentle sob racks your body, and Steve looks down at you, caressing your face gently. "Baby, stop crying. You're ruining that little face of yours." In honesty, Steve's patience is running thin. He's been good to you; caring, doting, paying you well for an easy job, and this is how you react? You cry into his arms after he tells you he's going to pump you full of his children? He's Captain America, for God's sake. You should be begging for it. "Just - Jesus fucking christ," he huffs as you continue to cry, grabbing your face harshly, and the sudden grip shocks you. "Stop crying. If you're going to speak, at least try and be fucking coherent."

Nodding your head, you wipe your eyes, which are tender and you assume, red. "I'm not ready for this," your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve almost feels a bit sorry at the sight of you. "I- I don't want this."

"Only good girls get what they want," Steve states plainly, staring at your disheveled face. He certainly got what he wanted - you look ruined, and you feel it, too. He imagines his cum is mixed with a bit of your blood; what, with him defiling you and all, he probably broke your hymen as well. The thought makes him grin to himself, and he utters, "I don't think you've been good, so you don't get what you want, baby."

"I'm sorry! I just - this doesn't seem like a fair punishment! I don't want this!" You cry out as Steve delivers a harsh smack to your ass, and you gaze up at him pathetically through your lashes as he tuts.

"I don't care if you think it's fair or not. You've been teasing me ever since you were an intern at Stark Industries, doll. I've been waiting to breed you for that long," his voice vibrates against you, and you shake your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with arguing against him. He's the Captain, and he has all of the control. "Anyway, you're just a dumb little baby. You have no idea what you want right now. But I do. I know what's good for you. Don't you trust me, baby?"

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inuette · 4 months

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Official (Anti) RQ Archive

[PT: Official (Anti) Radqueer Archive. END PT. ]

　Last Updated (DD/MM/YY): 08/01/24. This archive will be updated over time, so make sure to check back regularly if you can! If you have anxiety regarding opening links, no worries! All these posts are archived under our "archived" & resources tags.

Anti-RQ Terms/Flags

'PRAT' meaning

'Fluffy Para'

'Arissomei'/'Arissodic'

'Atypical Dysphoria Awareness' (Creator Boundary)

Reclaimed Transage, Transracial (Adoptee), Transspecies and Transabled Flags

Reclaimed Transabled Flag 2 + Symbol

BIID Flag + Symbol

Parahealth

RQ Terms/Flags

'Faux Cult'/'Fult' and Flags

Xenoanarchism

Other Terms

Doc

PSAs

Radparas

'Kandiqueer'

'Xenosatanism' and Xenosatanist Flags

'@//sophieinwonderland'

The Angel's Web "Fult"

'Not All Radqueers'

Initial 'Fult' PSA

"The Ezra Files" (Content/Trigger Warning: (Pro-C) Pedophilia, Incest, Bestiality, Zoosadism, Toddler/Baby Abuse, Grooming, CSEM Trading, Rape, Abduction, Admissions Of CSA, Admissions Of Incest, Admissions Of Bestiality…)

TransN*zi Symbols

Other Resources

What IS A Radqueer? Why Are They Bad?

RQ Original Coining Info

RQs are a Cult

RQs and Stochastic Terrorism

The Insult of 'Cisdisabled'

BIID and RQ Grooming

RQ '2024 Calendar'

Talk of Atypical Dysphoria

WHY Misuse of Transrace and the term 'Trace' are Bad

Talk of "Transautism"/being "Transautistic"

You Cannot 'Coin' A Medical Disorder/Talk of "MUDs"

Intrusive Thoughts About =/= Actually Believing in Them

'I have intrusive thoughts about ...' isn't a 'Valid' Excuse

Transitioning When It Comes To TransIDs and TransX Identities

Transethnic People Aren't Valid (Focuses on East Asians & Koreans)

There Are Better Ways to Cope with Atypical Dysphoria

Why Arissomei/Arissodic is its Own Term

Racial Hierarchy and Being "Trace"/"Transracial"

Blackface is Blackface — Your "Intent" Doesn't Matter

Alternative (Non-TERF Rhetoric) Anti-Radqueer Arguments

Suibaiting Radqueers ISN'T Okay

If You're Thinking of Leaving the RQ Community

'Cracker' is Not a Slur

Suibaiting RQs isn't Welcome Here

Radinclus does NOT Mean Radqueer

Misusage of Languages in RQ Spaces

How-To's

Reporting a RQ for Inciting Violence

(Fighting Against) RQs Rebranding Terms as 'RQ Terms'

Coping with Atypical Dysphoria

Getting Out and Staying Out Of the Community

General Tips

Reaffirmation

Reaffirmation of Why RQs are Bad (TWs included in the post)

BIID (Body Integrity Identity Disorder) =/= Radqueer (Affirmation)

#anti rq #anti radqueer #anti prat #anti 🍓🌈#anti radshit #anti transid #anti transx #pro para #anti contact #pro paraphile #pro paraphilia #anti c #anti c para #anti contact paraphile #➜ resources.#➜ archived — anti radqueer.

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syoddeye · 3 days

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Hello soon-to-be graduating students. Quick PSA in case you have not been informed or maybe need a reminder:

If you use a school-associated Google account (Google Drive, Gmail) to store anything personal (documents, fanfic, etc.), I encourage you to migrate your files to another Google Drive, a hard drive, USB, or some storage device.

Your institution probably has some kind of access and retention policy wherein you will lose access to your school-associated account and therefore your files and email, or your storage will be reduced. Look on your school's website under legal and/or information technology for policies or instructions.

Now, apologies, I'm only familiar with US-based schools, but here are examples of the type of information to look for - these examples are random:

University of Washington - Graduating Students: Preserve your work

UCLA - How am I affected by the Google Workspace Service Adjustment?

University of Michigan - Accounts for People Who Leave U-M

University of Wisconsin - What happens after graduation?

Go through your files and move your stuff before you graduate. Once you're out of the system, it's a toss up as to how long it'll take before access is revoked and drives are purged.

#source: former professor and librarian #i've been outta the game for years but this time of year still makes me nervous #the amount of rightfully upset students every year is hard #save your stuff!#this is also relevant if you use google for work and keep personal stuff there (which you shouldn't but that's a different conversation!)#sy psa #certified grandfather sy moment

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otomiyaa · 6 months

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PSA: Back up your blog, check your tumblr e-mail for copyright strikes

Hi everyone, after suddenly losing my account with main blog + sideblogs last week, I would like to share the following warning with y'all. Not to scare you even though it is shitty, but to raise awareness. If this somehow results in me getting kicked off the platform again, so be it lol.

If you post anything fandom* related on your tumblr blog**, whether that's gifs, screenshots, videos, cosplay pics or even fics (?), you may risk getting a copyright strike (up to 3 in 18 months) or even immediate account termination. The chance is still rather small, but just know that it can happen.

*I say fandom in the broad term, so blogs that post about movies and series, anime/manga, games, celebrities, models, sports/olympics, etc. and it goes for gif and fic creators too. Not just accounts that post music or videos for example.

**I say tumblr blog, but this goes for all of the internet ofc. People have been getting this problem on any platform, from insta to etsy, youtube and twitter.

Disclaimer: I am no legal expert, just an unlucky blogger who lost her silly multifandom fic blog after 7+ years.

This will be a bit long and detailed so I proceed under the cut!

What can you do?

...To make sure you don't suddenly lose days, months, and years of content:

CHECK THE EMAIL LINKED TO YOUR TUMBLR. I know a lot of people don't do it, myself included. Tumblr does send warnings (though not always). It wouldn't have changed anything for me because I wouldn't want to appeal - since I don't want to go into this "fair use" discussion for just a fic & editing blog. I personally don't know the chances of retrieving your blog if you protest against the claims, so can't say much about that.

Back up your Tumblr blog if you can. Also save your Tumblr chats with people dear to you if you can. Account termination seems to work differently than deactivation. I was still able to see chats with people who deactivated long ago. But my blog that got terminated has vanished from everyone's DMs and ask boxes à la Thanos snap. I mourn my years of Tumblr chat with my best friend. It was not as if we even considered exporting/copying it just for the memories of the start of our friendship. But now that it's entirely gone, hehe, well. It is sad.

Save URLs and masterposts outside Tumblr. After losing your account, for I thiiink about 24-48hrs (I didn't clock, but it was temporary) you will be able to access it at least temporarily through cachedpages, if you have the URL. It doesn't seem to work for everything, but most of my Tumblr posts I could still see shortly through this site, even after I got wiped off the platform. I did this by googling my tumblr username + certain keywords, and the posts would pop up and give me the URL.

...To prevent getting copyright strikes and losing your account?

Probably nothing - but like I said, I'm not the expert, just the fool who lost her account. The termination e-mail will give you a numbered URL so it's not easy to see which post resulted in the account loss, but for me the keywords were:

Despite the 7+ years of posts, many followers and a lot of memories, I did not gain anything else from this blog and didn't think it was worth the (legal-) risks and effort to try and get it back. It would require filing an objection against the copyright claims with personal info from home address to name, and consenting to USA legal law stuff.

Even if I don't know the exact details, I'm sure they're not wrong, because whether it's fair or not, most fandom stuff has copyright issues in the end, so I can't protest against the claims with 100% certainty it won't get me in real trouble. Besides, I read about similar cases, lost cases, and admitted defeat right away.

They work with manual reports and most dangerously, bots, who seem to be randomly picking unlucky people to take down their posts and possibly the entire account.

So besides putting an entire halt to fic writing, gif making, video editing and other fandom indulgement, or the inconvenient act of censoring every single word and image, I don't think there is a way to entirely prevent getting targeted.

The one that treated me to the strikes leading to account termination was a certain Mr. Green who seems to have targeted mostly people on Etsy. But apparently now also on Tumblr. More about this I can share here for further information. I also share some other links that can inform you about how far the copyright problem can go. Again, no reason to panic. It's rare and I was unlucky. But it happens.

About Mr. Green, using bots all over the internet to take down fandom related material:

Tumblr post about his attack on fandom.

Long detailed doc from an Etsy user.

Insta post about also loss of Etsy account.

Also Etsy related, but same Mr. Green and his bots taking down something only because it used the NAME of an anime character.

Tweet about him and his company not being officially contracted but getting compensated.

About copyright claims on Tumblr - they are still rare, no panic, I just call it russian roulette and these are all unlucky people like me :')

Post by user @/marilynjeansiims about claims against users who post about Sims, including a petition against it.

Post by user @/happyheidi about Moomin posts facing issues.

Post by user @/hanyusan about olympic related claims.

Example by user @/koov about what a vague copyright warning looks like.

Good news, post by user @/yunghos about getting their account back after filing a counter notice. It seems to be possible.

Post by user @/iamkatehardy about getting a strike for using a gif.

Post by user @/stxrshxpxd about getting their acc terminated for no 100% clear reasons.

Post by user @/tekweela about getting terminated mercilessly because of a reblog.

Post by user @/fromanotherroom-revived about losing their account with similar advice as I write here.

Post by user @/ladyphasma about gifs and US law

Knowing this won't bring lost accounts back, or change the law, I do hope at least you can be better prepared just in case it happens... Better prepared than I was at least.

#psa #fandom #copyright #no panic but just be careful<3 #signal boost #important

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house-of-mirrors · 10 months

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I suppose this is the perfect time to introduce one of my favorite OCs: the IT guy that works for the Bazaar in modern era

The Dauntless Technician

Explains to Wines that even if you delete a drunk post, everyone still saw it and it exists forever. Pretends not to see the hundreds of files of porn when they tune up its PC (it is still in charge of the sex trade after all)

Explains to Spices that you can't delete other people's (Wines') posts but you can block them (Spices doesn't). Goes in and clandestinely blocks access to Wines' pages from Spices' browser to get 20 minutes of peace

Removes viruses from Pages' computer because it keeps clicking suspicious "love story" links. There's an infamous incident where Pages clicked an attachment and introduced ILOVEYOU to the Neath. Explains to Pages that you can't make people unblock you

Pages would probably have some claim over the social media trade. The Technician moonlights as a white hat hacker undermining Pages' censorship attempts

Works closely with Fires, considering Fires probably jumps on owning technology as it advances (electricity, invention are under its domain). Fires thinks the Technician is its best ally because the Technician stands there listening to it rant (as an IT person, they are blessed with godlike patience). The Technician couldn't care less.

Replaces Fires' hardware because it melted it for the third time this week after seeing ragebait posts or reading emails from Iron. Also has to deal with Fires demanding the Technician help it install the latest tech updates the moment they drop, even if the Technician can see they won't be good.

Stones is really into mining bitcoin. Our technician doesn't even try touching that

Helps Happles set up a huge PC setup so it has two separate devices/cameras to stream cooking videos as Mr Apples and more scandalous material as Mr Hearts

The technician's favorite master is Iron. It's never demanding, it quickly adjusts to learning how to use technology, and it never gets into trouble with its devices because it's too paranoid to open spam. Iron is happily rolling in a fortune on the metals used in producing computer chips (and intermittently biting Fires over negotiations)

Embattled in a personal, passionate rivalry with the ruthless and skilled "hacker" who tries attacking the Bazaar every seven weeks, DDOS attacks are themed around water imagery, ransomware demands flesh and reckoning (the Technician doesn't have patience for any of this melodrama). The hacker's screen name is allshallbewell.

The Technician sends out PSAs begging people to recognize this and other parabolan hackers' signatures in spam links, which due to the entwining of computing and parabola, can not only brick your device but have dangerous mental consequences

The Bazaar is a messenger so really would be like the source of wifi/central communications network of the Neath, wouldn't she? The Technician gains an intimate knowledge of her from working so closely into her systems. The Penstock of the seventh city.

If our Technician is revolutionary inclined: can they pull off the job of a lifetime? Push a software update through the Bazaar's network that makes her realize she doesn't have to do all this to impress someone who will never love her? Save the Seventh by writing a program that makes the Bazaar love herself?

#Irem spoilers #my ocs #I love this fun little dude (gender neutral)#the dauntless technician #fallen london

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fcntasmas · 1 year

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friendly (and a little passive aggressive if i’m being honest lmao) psa:

when a fanfiction author posts their work on a specific platform, it doesn't give you or anyone else the right to repost it elsewhere without their explicit permission.

authors post their work for FREE to share their stories with you; you taking their work and posting it elsewhere — whether or not you claim it as yours — is a violation of the trust they’ve granted you as a reader. it doesn’t matter if you credited them. it doesn’t matter if you just wanted to share a story that brought you joy with more people. that’s what a hyperlink is for.

besides that, an author has the right to decide where their work is published, and reposting it without permission is not only a violation of their intellectual property rights, but under the DMCA, even if you’ve credited the work appropriately, it still constitutes copyright infringement.

(this is especially important to know for certain fic authors who may be concerned about their work being misrepresented or misattributed in any way. you CAN file a DMCA takedown notice if this ever happens to you.)

legalities aside, it can also just. lead to confusion and disputes which would not only be stressful for everyone involved, but it drives a wedge between authors and readers everywhere moving forward — which should not be the case in what’s meant to be a collaborative and encouraging community, honestly.

basically, your best bet here: don’t be an asshole. don’t be presumptuous. respect an author’s work. if they’ve only posted a work on AO3 and nowhere else, that doesn’t mean you get to take it and post it on Wattpad. (or fanfic.net, or any other fic site.) it probably means that’s the ONLY place the author wants their work to exist, since that’s where they can continue to interact with their readers, clarify anything that may have been misconstrued, or even update/edit something they’re not proud of/don’t agree with anymore in the future.

and, if there comes a day when an author wants to delete the work, we want to make sure it’s deleted FOR GOOD. we can’t fucking do that if someone’s decided to take it upon themselves to post it anywhere else.

if you or anyone you know has reposted fic to other sites without explicit permission before, please, please take the stories down. don’t do it again. it’s disheartening, it’s annoying, and, quite frankly, discouraging to authors.

there’s a reason so many fic authors stop posting their stories. numerous individuals have had their trust and intellectual rights violated before, and it just — makes us not want to post these stories anymore, for fear we’ll lose control of what’s ours.

try to be better. seriously.

#can u tell i got some Upsetting news this morning. lmao #it speaks #important #psa

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