It usually starts with a borrowed mic, a second-hand webcam, and dreams of becoming the next xQc or Pokimane. Then it happens: a sponsorship deal lands in your inbox, you get your first donation with 4 fire emojis and a keep going, king, and suddenly, you realize… you just made money on the internet.
That’s when the existential dread creeps in. Whether you’re raking in six figures or barely covering your Red Bull addiction, the taxman doesn’t care that your business address is mom’s basement. Even Bitcoin casino Bitz, which dabbles in streaming sponsorships and affiliate deals, don’t shield you from tax responsibilities.
If it ends up in your PayPal, crypto wallet, or bank, it's fair game. And the question isn’t “Do streamers owe taxes?” The real question is: How soon will the IRS find your Super Chats?
A lot of streamers fall into the same psychological trap: If I don’t treat it like a business, the IRS won’t either. That’s cute. But sadly, tax codes are built on paper trails, not vibes.
In most jurisdictions, income is income. Whether it comes from a salaried job, Twitch subs, or a PayPal tip with a meme attached, once you cross the minimum reporting threshold, it’s taxable. What matters isn't why you streamed, but what you earned.
Let’s break down the criteria many countries use to determine if your stream is a business or a hobby:
Criteria |
Hobbyist? |
Business? |
Do you earn money? |
Maybe |
Yes |
Do you keep expense records? |
No |
Yes |
Do you aim for profit? |
No |
Yes |
Are you consistent? |
Rarely |
Often |
Are you registered? |
Never |
Possibly |
Do you promote your stream? |
Sometimes |
Frequently |
Let’s talk about Michelle Phan, who started as a hobbyist beauty YouTuber. By 2015, her channel had grown into a business empire. But in 2016, she admitted to Forbes that she had to hire tax professionals because her content creation hobby had become a financial and legal maze.
Even smaller streamers get caught off guard. In 2021, U.S. Twitch streamers who earned over $600 began receiving 1099 forms from Twitch due to new IRS rules under the American Rescue Plan Act, turning casual earnings into reportable income overnight. So yeah—stream once for fun, stream twice, and the IRS is probably watching.
Streaming revenue is like a Hydra. You think it’s just subs, and suddenly you’ve got merch sales, Patreon, Discord premiums, affiliate links, sponsored posts, ad revenue, and oh, crypto tips via some sketchy browser plugin.
Each of these income streams can be taxed differently depending on where you live and how your country defines earned income, passive income, or self-employment.
Let’s look at the mes,s aka Typical Revenue Streams for Streamers:
Even if your payout threshold is high (like $600 in the U.S. via 1099-K), platforms are increasingly being forced to report your earnings directly to the government. No more sneaky streams in the dark.
You can deduct your camera. Maybe even your microphone, your lighting, a fraction of your internet bill, and that $4.99 stream overlay pack with the neon border you never used. But deducting your cat because she appears on camera? That’s where auditors start sharpening their claws.
Yes, streamers, like freelancers, can write off certain expenses. But pushing it too far can trigger reviews or audits, especially if you're claiming a full home office but still live with your parents.
Here’s a look at what’s (usually) safe to deduct and what might raise eyebrows:
Expense Type |
Usually Deductible? |
Risk Level |
Gaming Chair |
Yes |
Low |
Capture Card & Streaming Gear |
Yes |
Low |
Internet (percentage for work) |
Partially |
Medium |
Games Played on Stream |
Sometimes |
Medium |
Snacks While Streaming |
Unlikely |
High |
Cat as “Mascot” |
No |
Red Flag |
Trip to TwitchCon (receipts) |
Maybe |
Medium |
Uber Eats While Live |
No |
High |
RGB Lights for Vibe |
Maybe |
Medium |
Buying Followers/Views |
No—and illegal |
Red Alert |
YouTuber and business coach Graham Stephan publicly revealed that the IRS questioned his write-offs, including lighting and camera gear, and once flagged a deduction for coffee purchased during a video shoot as potentially excessive.
He discussed this in several videos, warning fellow creators not to assume everything is deductible just because it feels professional.
Moral of the story: keep receipts, don’t stretch logic, and remember: If it doesn’t scream business, it might whisper audit.
You might stream to an audience in seven time zones, but your government only cares about one: yours.
And if you're living abroad or pulling income from multiple platforms with HQs in different countries (hello Twitch in the U.S., Ko-fi in the U.K., ViewBoost in Canada), your tax life gets spicy fast—even if your earnings come from friendly platforms like Gullybet, which offers smooth affiliate payouts and clear reporting tools that many streamers actually prefer over older systems.
The illusion of borderless money vanishes the moment you have to declare that money to someone in a government building who still uses fax machines. So even if Gullybet makes it easy to track what you’ve earned, you’re still responsible for telling your local tax authority what actually came in.
No matter how borderless streaming feels, your bank account—and your tax residency—always has a zip code.
If you're still reading this, take a breath: nobody’s saying you need to become a CPA overnight. But whether you're a part-time streamer or a full-time digital hustler, pretending you don’t owe taxes won’t make them disappear—it just delays the panic until a letter arrives with your government’s logo and some very large numbers.
Here’s your reality check: Yes, streamers owe taxes. No, it’s not cute to ignore it. And yes, Twitch is fun until the IRS shows up in chat like, First time here? Pay what you owe, write off what you can. And if in doubt—mute the mic and call an accountant