They Paid You Once. Now They Own You.

You get your first proper gig as a creator. Real brief, real money, maybe even a video call that didn’t get cancelled last minute.

You’re hyped. Then they send over the contract.

And buried somewhere in the pages of “too long didn’t read” is a little section called Intellectual Property Rights. Which is legal for “we now own everything you made and can use it forever, thanks.”

This is where a lot of new creators get caught out.

Because it sounds harmless. You think, “Well, they paid me, so fair enough?” But hidden in the fluffy language are a few dangerous words: royalty free, irrevocable, perpetual, assignable.

Translation? They can take the thing you made, repurpose it into a year’s worth of marketing content, and never owe you another penny. Not even a shoutout.

Imagine you filmed a gameplay video, face cam and all. Or wrote a smart, detailed thread giving feedback on their game. They post it, great.

But then a few months later, you see the same content chopped up, captioned badly, reused in a highlight reel, shoved into a sizzle with “Top 10 Community Quotes” over it... and your name is nowhere.

They paid you once. But now the content lives forever. Without you.

And it’s not just about money. It’s about attribution. A lot of these contracts sneak in a clause waiving what’s called your moral rights. That means they don’t have to credit you.

They don’t even have to ask before they tweak, edit, or distort the work. Want to put it in your portfolio? Too bad. You technically need their permission again.

Even worse, if they reuse your content badly or post it out of context, it can damage your reputation.

That smart feedback you gave now looks like cringe hype. That honest gameplay becomes a meme. And suddenly you’re being judged for something you didn’t even approve.

And clients never mess up tastefully.

The irony? If you push back and ask for limits, half the time they’ll agree. Most aren’t out to trap you.

They’re just working off a default template cooked up by Legal back when Instagram still had sepia filters.

But if you never ask, they won’t offer. And one small clause could mean the difference between fair use and being quietly exploited.

So here’s the real advice: read the clause. If it says they own everything, forever, with no credit and no restriction, that’s not a contract. That’s a clearance sale.

Ask for reuse limits. Ask for attribution. Ask for the right to showcase your work. Because if your work is good enough to use in a dozen ways, it’s good enough to be treated with respect.

You’re not disposable content. You’re not a template.

You’re a creator. Act like it.

Today we game. Tomorrow we read the contract.