XQC and his Tiddy Streamer

Chapter One

"Seven, get your shit together."

She winced at the words, squinting her eyes at the screen for the thousandth time.

"What the hell are you doing?"

More words, more insults, what the hell was she doing? She'd been at this for the longest time, yet where was the progress? Maybe if she-

"You're throwing."

"Gah, fuck you!" She screams, promptly alt f4ing out of the match.

It was competitive Overwatch. You could say Seven is a bit of a bitch.

But that's not what she thought, hands shaking yet drenched in a thin sheen of sweat. The birds were chirping outside, and if she had to guess, the time peaked at just over 6 am, yet the only thing she could think of how terrible of a player she was. No. It wasn't her who was terrible. It's not her fault she's a Mercy one-trick, she'd been healing at her best and her team- God, fuck her team! Her team was deliberately tilting her by playing like garbage. Her team was awful.

But would she switch heroes?

Hell no! She'd rather die than bend over for some ugly, loser, no-friend shut-ins.

Speaking of...

Seven's eyes glanced at her peripherals, eyeing the mirror hanging on her wall. Her hair was a rat's nest. Years ago she executed her once luscious locks and what remained were shoulder-length strands, messily cut herself. Her sweatshirt was worn for the past few days, stuck to her flesh with layers of sweat that seemed to pool out of her. Her glasses were cradling her roman nose, lips aggressively curled at the loss of her last game.

She was lanky and unbalanced, tall and impeding, and if one colour were to describe her aesthetic, it'd be beige. But that meant nothing to her.

Who cares if she's not conventionally attractive? With a bit of makeup, anyone can be, so what's the point?

A bird coos loudly,  breaking her out of her stupor. Why the hell was that mirror there, anyways?!

Another chirp.

Birds. The birds are awake?

Oh right, it's past 6 am.

The alarm in her head goes off and she launches herself out of her chair, leaps into work clothes, and bolts out the door. Not forgetting to grab her Mercy keys, of course.

___

Seven's coworker was dying of laughter over something she said, curling over himself in careless humour. Was what she said really that funny?

"The- the best E-Sports player!" He chokes out, company hat nearly toppling over his head.

Seven looks into his eyes with a deadpan expression. "Yes."

"Pffft! You know you have to be good at E-Sports for that! And you need to be likeable too!"

"I know, that's why I want to do it."

He pauses his laughter, looking at her neutrally. Not before cracking up and exploding out in more wheezes though.

"I almost thought you were serious!"

"I am."

He stops laughing. suddenly lifting himself upright and looking intensely at her. It was a quiet day at their barista job, allowing for little moments like this where her beloved coworker could chat with her- something that was often glorified bullying.

He wouldn't trade the world for these chats, but something in his eyes indicated that this specific chat was something he wouldn't trade the universe for. It was hilarious. He eyes up her position, rigidly standing upright (she was almost taller than him), and noticed her looking oddly serious for someone who told such a funny joke. He cleared his throat.