[Western Crossover] Don't Hit the Chef While He's Cooking

[Top-focused story, anything-goes pairing buffet, pairing undecided]

Lainer's main job is to be a rich second-generation heir living off his parents' inheritance until he dies. His side gig is being a cook, mainly tossing together big, hearty fanfic dishes on red-and-white sites.

He writes canon-style tragic romances, tacky and melodramatic love-hate stories, crossover crack pairings, and all kinds of interstellar Sentinel-Guide, ABO, insectoid, BDSM, and gender-swap stories.

The first thing he does every morning is check his bank balance. The second is see how readers have reacted to the chapters he just posted.

Some readers complain that his writing is vulgar and in poor taste. His fans cheer that his big-pot meals are generous and filling, though a little bland.

Lainer, who has never been in a relationship: Oh no. I don't know how to write smut.

Just then, a rich woman paid her way into his DMs: "I'd like to commission a story. The subject isn't fictional. Are you interested?"

Lainer shook his head. "Sorry, but I don't take real-life commissions."

The commission fee went up tenfold.

Lainer nodded. "What would you like to read, darling?"

The rich woman said, "I'll give you a few people to choose from. I want smut about them. Pairings, solo stories, or reader-insert, I don't mind."

*

Determined not to let his client down, Lainer packed his bags and headed to an unfamiliar city. Every night, he'd get up in the small hours and run all over the rooftops with his camera, his dark circles growing heavier by the day.

The young policeman next door asked what he was taking pictures of. Lainer, who always carried a color chart, replied, "Everything. Hair color, skin tone, eye color, preferably their measurements too."

The young policeman: ?

Lainer: You wouldn't understand. Those are essential details for writing.

Once he'd gathered the information, he moved on to his next target.

He ventured into Gotham's dangerous neighborhoods, probed the secrets of crime bosses, hid in narrow alleys where the sky was barely visible, and searched for the Red Bird.

His final target, and the only ordinary person on the list, was Gotham's beloved Bruce Wayne.

Bruce was incredibly popular on red-and-white sites. Lainer hesitated, wondering if he should just dig up some fanworks by other writers to gather information. But in the end, he was moved by his client's trust. He dug out his long-neglected diploma and sent a job application to the company.

After successfully landing the job, Lainer thought: Wait, Wayne never comes to work?

*

After overcoming a series of hardships, Lainer finally compiled nearly three hundred thousand words of stories and hit Publish. Readers, hungry for updates, rushed in with bowls in hand.

But the more they read, the stranger things seemed.

"This is supposed to be a solo story, right? It started out looking like one. How did it turn into a reader-insert?"

"No way. I don't remember the author ever writing reader-insert, but I'm into it, hehe."

"Multishippers fear nothing. Feed it to me!"

"The author's always written a complete jumble. Are there actually any readers with strict preferences among their fans?"

"Whoa, everyone, go read chapter twenty-eight! The author wrote smut! I've finally lived to see this day! (tears of joy.jpg)"

"...Wait a minute, something's off. Why are the details so realistic?"

Some twisted, intensely devoted fans among the readers saw through him and lost it: "You didn't actually get with them in real life, did you?"

"Show yourself!"

"I'm coming to find you right now. You'd better have your neck washed and ready!!!"

Lainer, who had scrolled all the way to the bottom of the comments, was terrified. He grabbed his wok and ran for it.

"You don't get to beat up the chef while you're eating!"

Theme: Be civilized online.