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summary: your chat links you an edit of stableronaldo. after your reaction gets clipped and sent to him, your interactions start to become a normal thing. so when lacy schedules a stream with both of you, it starts to get real.
bold italics are the chat
you were three hours into a just chatting stream, half-listening to chat roast your terrible aim in the background game while you scrolled through twitter on the second monitor.
the room was dim except for the soft purple led strip behind the monitor and the glow of the camera light. you’d already gone through the usual “what should we do next” poll and were leaning toward maybe a cooking segment later when a link came through that caught your eye and the message: yo watch this edit rn.
you clicked it without thinking.
the edit hit hard. quick, stylish cuts of some guy in with dark hair, a red zip up hoodie, and glasses. there slow-mo of him laughing into a mic, turning to the side to show his side profile, then a flash of him looking dead into camera with this half-smirk.
you sat up straighter in your chair.
“wait chat…why’s he kinda bad.”
your chat exploded instantly.
you leaned closer to the screen, rewinding a couple seconds just to catch the smirk again. “wait. he looks familiar, who is this.”
the spam was immediate and relentless.
STABLE RONALDO
THAT’S RON
STABLE RONALDO OMG
bro she doesn’t know ex faze?
he’s part of the core boys
stable ronaldo yt / twitch
you blinked at the flood of messages. “stable ronaldo? that’s a name. y’all are saying this like i should already know.”
the chat kept sending links to clips, someone pasted his twitch, and someone else dropped a quick rundown: “he’s been streaming for years, he’s apart of the group core, sang pay phone, and had a cat named Burger.”
you watched the edit again, this time slower. the way the camera caught the side of his face when he laughed, the little head tilt. you caught yourself smiling at the monitor like an idiot and immediately tried to play it off.
“okay…yeah he’s a good looking guy.”
you clipped your own reaction on purpose and posted it with the caption “who is stable ronaldo and why is he getting edited likethat” before you could overthink it.
ron was mid-stream, going through the twitter comms for his reaction segment while his chat did its usual thing. one of his mods dropped a link in the chat with the caption she’s watching your edit lmao.
ron glanced over, clicked it, and the clip of you reacting played on his second monitor.
he watched the whole thing once. then again.
the corner of his mouth tugged up. he muted his mic for a second, shook his head, then unmuted.
“that’s funny as hell,” he said, voice low and amused.
chat immediately started spamming.
SHE SAID YOU KINDA BADD
your chopped she’s lying
😍😍😍😍😍
follow her
open p.o
ron smirked at the camera, the same half-smirk from the edit. “y’all are weird. she’s just reacting. it’s a good edit, and it’s of me so of course she said that.” he paused, still looking at the paused frame of your face on his screen.
he didn’t say anything else about it that night, but the clip stayed open on his second monitor longer than it needed to.
a few days later ron was live again, this time just chatting after a long segment in the living room eating canes while a couple of the other guys moved around in the background. someone in chat dropped your Instagram handle with the message: follow her already we know you want to.
he scrolled for a second, found the profile, and stared at it longer than he meant to. soft lighting selfies, stream screenshots, one of you holding a ridiculous amount of energy drinks, another of you laughing mid-sentence with the caption “aint shit funny.”
he exhaled through his nose.
“if yall want me to do its so bad then fine…fine.”
then he hit follow live on stream.
char lost it. he just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, that same little smirk back.
“there. happy? now shut up.”
you phone lit up while you were offline. a notification from instagram: stableronaldo started following you.
you stared at it for a solid thirty seconds before screenshots went straight to your close friends story with the caption “chat what do i do.”
and the next couple of weeks turned into this quiet, constant background noise between the two of you.
you’d be mid-stream and someone would type “ron just laughed at something” or “he was talking about edits earlier.” you pretend not to care and then ten minutes later casually ask, “wait what did he say?” while trying to keep your face neutral for the camera.
on his side, his chat would drop your clips whenever you had a funny reaction or a bad take, and he’d watch them with the same half-smile, sometimes muttering “she’s seems chill” under his breath before moving on. even the core boys group chat started sending clips of you two talking about eachother.
it began with a simple “appreciate the edit reaction lmao” from him.
you replied with something equally casual, heart beating a little too fast. then it was a meme, then a “you still streaming?” at 2 a.m. then longer messages that stretched past midnight.
voiice notes once or twice when you were both up late after streams, his voice lower, softer than it was on stream, a little rough from talking for hours.
it was nothing heavy at first.
he sent a picture of his cat, which your chat informed you was named burger, sitting on his keyboard once, the black cat looking deeply unimpressed with the chaos in the background.
you sent one of your own cat, kirby, laying on his back for attention. you talked about bad games and weird chatters.
you talked about anything and everything.
by the third week you were texting most days, even if it was just a single “you up?” or a random thought that felt too specific to send to anyone else.
then lacy’s stream invitation came out of nowhere.
he texted both of you the same afternoon from a group chat: i wanna do a gaming segment with you two. it’ll be funny. trust me.
you stared at the message for a long time, thumb hovering.
ron’s reply was just: bet.
yours was: okay yeah i’m down.
on the day of you kept telling yourself it was just another collab. but your heart didn’t listen. you checked your phone three times on the way there, half-expecting him to cancel, half-hoping he wouldn’t.
the core house was bigger than you expected from the streams, open living space, multiple setups, soft lights already arranged for the collab, couches that had clearly seen too many late nights. a few of the other guys were already there milling around, talking, laughing.
you walked in and the first thing you saw was him.
he was in a black t shirt, a pair of blue shorts from his brand ‘ultra’ he told you about, and hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it more than once. he was talking to lacy, laughing at something, and when he looked up and spotted you the smirk came back, softer this time.
“what’s up,” he said, voice exactly like the streams but warmer in person.
you did the awkward half-hug that streamers do when they’ve only ever known each other through screens. he smelled like cologne and energy drinks.
drew, lacy’s camera man herded you two into place for the segment in the main living room setup. ron ended up sitting one seat over from you on the long couch. he was close enough that when he leaned forward to talk into the shared mics his shoulder almost brushed yours.
close enough that you could see the way his hands moved when he talked, the way his smile was bright, the way he bit the inside of his cheek when he was trying not to laugh too hard.
halfway through, while lacy was explaining the next round, and laiys and drew were arguing over chargers, you angled your head slightly toward the camera that was more focused on your reactions and whispered just loud enough for your chat to catch it on the vods later.
“he looks even better in person.”
your chat on the other side of the screen lost their minds in the background. you kept your face carefully neutral, but the tips of your ears felt warm.
ron glanced over like he’d almost heard something, eyes flicking to your face for a second too long, but lacy called his name and the moment passed.
the segment ran long with lots of laughing. ron was quick with the jokes, the same chaotic energy from his streams but softer when the cameras weren’t directly on him.
every time your eyes met he’d give you that little look—like the two of you were sharing a private joke no one else was in on. once, when someone made a particularly bad take, he leaned toward you just enough that only you could hear him mutter, “that’s crazy,” and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud on camera.
when the stream finally ended and the cameras cut, the energy in the room shifted. drew started packing up, talking about food, next collabs, whose turn it was to clean the kitchen. lacy was already on his phone, half-distracted with something else.
ron looked over at you, hands in his pockets, that same easy posture from the streams somehow more noticeable in person.
“you wanna see the rest of the place?” he asked quietly, voice pitched low enough that it stayed between the two of you.
you nodded before you could talk yourself out of it.
his room was exactly what like it looks on live but somehow better. in a way that felt real, cameras on the desk, a half-empty energy drink can, soft lighting from a lamp in the corner instead of the harsher overheads downstairs.
the second he pushed the door open a black cat came trotting out from under the bed like he’d been waiting specifically for this moment.
“burger,” ron said, voice going softer than you’d ever heard it on stream. “be chill.”
burger was not chill. he walked straight up to you, sniffed your shoe once, then started weaving between your ankles, purring loud enough to hear across the room. his fur was soft under your fingers when you crouched down.
“he doesn’t usually do that.”
you scratched behind his ears and the cat leaned into it hard, eyes half-closed, completely ignoring his owner.
“yeah he does,” you said, smiling up at ron. “he just has taste.”
ron watched the two of you for a second longer, something quiet and warm settling in his expression. his smirk softened into something closer to a real smile.
he showed you the rest of his rom without making it feel like a tour, the streaming corner with the setup you recognized, the dual monitors still glowing faintly, the closet that was somehow both messy and intentional.
you ended up sitting on the edge of his bed with burger eventually claiming your lap like he’d paid rent and decided you were permanent furniture now.
then the conversation came easy.
you talked about the segment, about how weird it still felt to meet people you’d only known through screens, about the dms that had started feeling less like two streamers talking and more like something else entirely.
he admitted, voice low and a little embarrassed, that he’d rewatched your reaction clip more times than he’d ever tell chat. you admitted that you’d started leaving his streams on in the background even when you weren’t actively watching, just for the sound of his voice.
at some point the space between you on the bed got smaller. burger eventually got bored of being the center of attention and wandered off toward the bathroom.
ron’s knee brushed yours and neither of you moved away. his shoulder was warm where it almost touched yours.
“you’re not so different off stream,” he said after a while, voice quieter now, like the words were just for you.
he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound soft in the quiet room.
you stayed like that for a long time, talking, not talking, the rest of the house muffled downstairs. every so often he’d look at you like he was still a little surprised you were actually there, in his room, with his cat’s fur still clinging to your jeans.
you’d catch yourself looking at the line of his jaw or the way his hands moved when he talked and have to glance away before he noticed.
when you finally stood to leave it was late. the kind of late that felt soft around the edges. he walked you downstairs and to the front door. burger tried to follow and got gently blocked with a foot, letting out an offended little meow that made both of you laugh.
“text me when you get home?” he asked, one hand still resting on the doorframe near your shoulder.
he hesitated for half a second, then leaned in and hugged you properly this time, arms solid and warm, lingering just long enough that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
when he pulled back he was close enough that you could see the flecks in his eyes, the faint tiredness under them from too many late streams, the way his mouth softened when he looked at you.
“I’m so happy you came today,” he said.
you left with the feeling of his hoodie still on your cheek and certainty that whatever this was, it had already started weeks ago in the dms and the clipped reactions and the way chat had shipped you before either of you even knew each other’s real voices.
outside, the night air was cool against your face. your phone buzzed before you even reached the car.
ron: burger’s looking for you again.
you smiled at the screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
you: tell him I’ll be back.
you drove home with the windows down and the same song from the original edit playing low on the radio, and the steady knowledge that this was only the beginning.
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