YBY’s Bottom Teeth
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sideb-track2.bsky.social
YBY’s Bottom Teeth
@sideb-track2.bsky.social
78 followers 130 following 1.1K posts
I think things and sometimes I write the things down.
They/Them, Old, Miscellaneously Queer.

!!NSFW!!

Shen Shen's forehead scar is very important to me.
https://archiveofourown.org/users/sideB_track2

Navigate: #yexie #fic
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sideb-track2.bsky.social
Underwood’s bio sure is telling:
Screenshot from the linked article that reads: Erin Underwood is a writer, editor, and content producer based in the greater Boston area. As Senior Event Content Producer for MIT Technology Review, she creates events on AI and climate tech. A three-time Hugo Award nominee and MFA graduate, she’s a published anthologist, recognized screenwriter, and active science fiction community volunteer.
December 28, 2025 at 8:47 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Notes from the Shen Shen/Ye Baiyi/Xie'er Disco Elysium crossover nobody asked for. Not even me. But when have I ever asked for any of the ideas that flourish like dandelions in cracked pavement?

(Mild spoiler for one thing in Disco Elysium.)
Shen Shen could hear them in the shower. “I backed my car through the fence,” Ye Baiyi said. “Did you?” Xie’er asked, as though it was any other ordinary conversation. “Then I drove it across a roof and into a billboard and over the river and broke through a sheet of ice.” “A very grand gesture.” Not even running water or a closed door could muffle the shimmer in Xie’er’s amusement. “What were you trying to say?” It really was remarkable, Shen Shen thought. To thread the car between two bench seats at that velocity. To hit shell-cracked pavement at a perfect slant. To launch skyward, land on the roof, fly off the other side into a butter billboard, ride it down to the far bank of the river. To somehow control the car off that billboard, off that pier, only to spin out over thin ice. To not drown, after all that. An impossible string of luck that proved its genius. He pretended to be asleep when they came out again, letting the room fill with warm steam.
December 24, 2025 at 1:34 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
This finger-tuck is *everything*
Crop from the picture in the first post, showing his finger tucked behind a fold of silky fabric. He is also wearing a thin gold ring and matching bracelet. It’s all very delectable. Delicious. Overindulging in a delicacy.
December 21, 2025 at 8:57 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Disneyland? Real sexy, just like you asked.
Li Daikun, the actor who plays Xie Wang, being real sexy at Disneyland, just like we all asked. He's looking away from the camera, leaning on a timber balustrade, and is wearing a silky, semi-sheer long-sleeve black shirt that adores him almost as much as we do. God, the way it drapes across his shoulders is art. It's open at the collar by one button more than discretion would call for. Very importantly, it has ruffled cuffs with laces that are untied. He has one finger tucked behind a fold in his shirt, which is lovely. Lovely. It's so fucking lovely.
December 21, 2025 at 11:39 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Let's all deal with it together.
NSFW kinda but not really. A bit, maybe. Not too bad. Xie'er is quite very drunk. Ye Baiyi is not.
#yexie
“Brush,” Ye Baiyi says, and holds a pasted toothbrush in front of his face. They’re in the bathroom somehow. Xie’er scrunches his eyes against the light. Ye Baiyi turns Xie’er towards the mirror, holds onto his waist to keep him steady. There is a perfect, vivid lipstick kiss on Xie’er’s cheek. “I’m not cheating on you,” Xie’er says through his foam. “She kisses everybody.” “I’m not worried,” Ye Baiyi says, and hides a grin behind Xie’er’s shoulder in their reflection. “Spit,” he says. Then, “Rinse.” He swivels Xie’er around and lifts the toilet seat. “Piss.” “Are you going to watch?” Xie’er asks. He wishes they were still facing the mirror so he could see Ye Baiyi’s reaction. “I’ll let you hold my dick,” he says. He doesn’t mean it. At least, he didn’t mean it when he said it, but now he’s thinking about it. Whether he could piss like that. Whether he would like it. Whether Ye Baiyi would. Whether it would be a sex thing or a trust thing or just some messed up thing. Whether he’d finally have something weird to tell Du Pusa. “I’m sure you can manage,” Ye Baiyi says, and he leaves. The toilet bowl drifts in front of him. Can he manage? Somebody laughs, a high-pitched mocking amusement. “Shut up,” he mumbles. The laughing stops. The laughing had been him.
December 16, 2025 at 1:37 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Experimenting with beginnings. WIP, and extremely first-draft-y.
#yexie
He is alone. Standing in the middle of the room, staring at the closed apartment door. Beyond, he can hear Ye Baiyi’s footsteps in the stairwell receding until he’s gone… But they stop. Return, fast, rising. Flying back up the stairs. He has forgotten something, maybe, though he never forgets anything; he takes the stairs two at a time, and he thinks five steps ahead. Xie’er is still frozen there, unmoored on the loungeroom rug, when ye Baiyi bursts back in. He drops his satchel, kicks off his shoes, stricken by some terrible urgency that has him heedless of disarray, has him serious and rushing across the room, has him focused as a laser beam. Xie’er closes his eyes just as Ye Baiyi slips both hands around his waist, shivers just before Ye Baiyi kisses his neck. For all that urgency, for all that rush, there is always a hesitation here at the skin, a disbelief, an excruciating sweetness. “I missed you,” he says into Xie’er’s ear with a quiet chuckle. “You were gone less than a minute,” Xie’er says. His heart is scampering like a panic, like a thrill, thrashing in his chest, clawing to get out. Of course he is too small to contain everything Ye Baiyi gives. “Too long,” Ye Baiyi says, and kisses him exquisitely on the lips. They’ve gotten too good at this — once they start, they’re unstoppable. “Ah shit,” Ye Baiyi mumbles, because he knows it. They’re already too far gone. All Xie’er can do is hold on as Ye Baiyi lifts him, wrap his legs around Ye Baiyi’s waist, tangle in his hair as he’s carried to the bedroom. He has had so many daydreams about this, exactly: staring at doors that open.
December 15, 2025 at 10:09 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
If anyone would like this pin, I will happily and enthusiastically post it to you.
(I don’t know who it is. It came as an extra with a wenzhou pin.)
Enamel pin of some dude, bust view, with light grey hair and a red skin-tight outfit with many shiny silver orbs on it. Most notably, he has quite a pair of bulging mantitties busting through the front. Who is he? No idea!
December 8, 2025 at 11:18 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Found my beginning.

It's in Shen Shen's POV. He didn't sign up for this, but he's going to do his best to... to... well, he has no idea, really...
“How is it possible to feel this bad and not be dead,” Ye Baiyi was saying. Again. Draped across the bench this time, at least, instead of crumpled on the ground. They’d made it a dozen metres from the door of the Whirling in Rags. The fresh Insulindean air, perversely, seemed to do him damage. “Maybe I’m immortal,” he whimpered. “Oh god, please don’t tell me I’m immortal.”
November 25, 2025 at 8:20 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Shadowpuppet

Ye Baiyi/Xie Wang
15,500 words
Xie Wang is a thief... and Ye Baiyi catches him.

archiveofourown.org/works/44941879
(Must be logged into Ao3 to read)

#yexie #fic
Screenshot of Tags and Information from A o 3: Rating: Explicit No archive warnings apply Category: MM Fandom: Word of Honor (TV 2021) Relationship: Xie Wang, Ye Baiyi Characters: Xie Wang, Ye Baiyi, Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing Additional Tags: Mild Blood, WenZhou as Scenery, Alternate Universe -- Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Grooming (past), Oral Sex, Past Xie Wang/Zhao Jing, Under Protection is not Under Arrest, An Entire Duck Language: English Stats: Published 2023-02-11 Words: 15,418 Chapters: 1/1 Screenshot of Summary from A o 3: Shadowpuppet by sideB_track2 “Show doesn’t start for half an hour,” the man says. “Want to get a drink at the bar?” Xie Wang shakes his head. No, he can’t get a drink. He’d love one — he’d love five — but no, not tonight. Still, he lets the notion lift from its perch, flutter through his mind. Drop on wings too weak to be anything but ornamental. Life is filled with a million little misses, and this will be but one of them. It’s for the best, anyway; he’s too sentimental. Xie Wang is a thief... and Ye Baiyi catches him. (A story about being seen for who you are, despite everything.)
November 24, 2025 at 12:51 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
A Ye Baiyi spotted in the wild.

For @tbgkaru.bsky.social and @hattedhedgehog.bsky.social 🖤🐨🌿
A very cute and very round koala fast asleep in the crook of a tree.
August 10, 2025 at 12:11 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Happy Take Your Corpse Out For Coffee Day to all who celebrate

☕️🪦
August 8, 2025 at 3:15 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Is… is this what it feels like to be Li Daikun every day…
First person view of my hand holding an enormous avocado. My hands are not chonky, but I have long fingers! Decently sized hands! This avocado makes them look so small. Also visible: wrist and part of forearm. Pale turquoise watch band and tan woollen jumper peeking out from beneath black cotton sweater cuff. The background is blurry, but we can see a dark grey concrete floor, the edge of a wooden table and chair on the right, and an assortment of green house plants on the left.
July 24, 2025 at 12:57 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Not sure about these subtitles, though…
Screenshot from Mysterious Lotus Casebook. Three people in a cave. Two are carrying torches of the flaming variety. I don’t know what they’re called! Fire torches?! But I digress. One man is turned towards a woman, asking her a question, which the subtitles have translated as “Are you feeling uncontrollable?”
July 10, 2025 at 3:06 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Outtakes. Ye Baiyi makes (another) poop joke.

#yexie #wip
Do you need anything? And the kid looked at him expectantly, studiously. Hopefully. Pencil poised. Wine, Ye Baiyi almost said. The weak part of him. Which was most of him, most days. He was mostly weak. It had been months, though. This time. A dry forest. He could go a little longer without wine. You know those cakes, he said instead. Individually wrapped. They’ve got a layer of fake jam and a layer of fake cream, and they’re rolled up like a snail. Those are awful, the kid said. Correctly. They were scientifically, qualifiably awful. You’re right, Ye Baiyi said. Probably made out of foam, anyway. Probably an industrial byproduct. The kid was staring at him. The kid was staring at him. Probably indigestible, too. They probably come out the same way they go in. The kid was glowering. Kind of terrifying. Probably shouldn’t bury that shit out here, he continued. Might poison the water table, ground zero ecological disaster— You need to stop, the kid said. You need to stop talking, and he launched out of chair into Ye Baiyi’s lap, both of them toppling, too much momentum. On the ground now, Ye Baiyi flat on his back and pinned down. Laughing but muffled, the kid’s hand clamped over his mouth. The kid backlit like he’d hidden in the sun, swooped out of the blind. Like he was made to catch you by surprise. Ye Baiyi stopped struggling. Heart wasn’t in it anyway, the struggle. The kid slowly removed his hand. Sitting on him still, alight with curiosity. Expression softening. Don’t get me the cake, Ye Baiyi said. Unforgivable amount of packaging. The kid shook his head, repressed a smile. That was it, maybe: the problem. Didn’t want to laugh at something so below him. The kid had manners. I’ll bring you cake, he said. Picked a leaf out of Ye Baiyi’s hair. Nice of him. Tender and lovely, with those talons. But not that cake, he added.
July 3, 2025 at 1:42 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
The draft is called Nest.

#yexie
Back to the clearing in silence. Not uncomfortable; not really silent, either. A symphony in the canopy which Ye Baiyi had come to appreciate. He liked it before of course, but living out here taught him to tune in differently. Him, at his age, still learning. Turned, and the kid was following a few steps behind, looking around at least, maybe not tuned in but at least aware. Met his eyes, a tiredness in them but a brightness too, an irrepressible spark. Him or me. That kind of spark, probably; the one that saved his life. Ye Baiyi continued walking. Wondered whether he’d ever had that spark. The irrepressible part of it, probably not; when him or me, he’d run into sacrifice headlong. Didn’t give it a thought. Save him, take me. Death took his heart and his spark both. He’d shared tents with the eco-brats many times. Too many times. Necessity. Very annoying. This was… different. Kind of… nice. Maybe he shouldn't think so. Maybe should ignore the breath against his neck, the hand draped featherlight on his waist. When was the last time — god, he shouldn’t think about that. He should stop thinking. He’d keep still, let the kid settle. Let him curl against his back. Let him curl them both together. Practical, really. It was a single camp mattress. Nice or not didn’t matter. It could be like this. If the kid needed it.
July 1, 2025 at 2:02 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Ye Baiyi having a nature bath.

Tags: nudity (non-sexual), severed head (non-graphic)

#yexie
To the river, and he stripped himself bare, threw himself in. God, it never got less cold, did it. Every morning he’d do this, and every evening he’d think surely it can’t have been that bad. Then he’d throw himself in, and it in fact wasn’t that bad at all, it was worse, one million icy needles. Instant headache when he dunked himself under. Short shocked gasping, every time like the first time. Shit, he said out loud. Scrubbed with the soap, all his bits and pieces, did his hair this time too. Getting a bit long, now; could probably tie it up in a band. Should’ve asked the kid to bring one. Would ask next week when the eco-brats came instead. Either that or ask for a haircut. No; Wen Kexing with scissors too terrifying. Wen Kexing too terrifying, full stop. Out, and the wind almost worse than the water. His dick hadn’t been that small since yesterday morning. Laughed at himself. Made that joke every day, laughed every time. Jumped around on the bank butt-naked while he turned his thermal underwear right way out. That every morning, too, and he still never remembered to do it first, lay out clothes beforehand so he didn't have to jump around on the bank butt-naked and dripping to boot. Realised, suddenly, out of the blue, he was sharing the forest with a head, now. Stood there, butt-naked, thermal underwear right way out but momentarily forgotten, the cold forgotten but the head remembered. Huh, he said out loud. Some poor fool’s head. What a weird day it had been. Never really took that in until now. No time to sit with it, what with the kid being there. Beautiful. Tragic. Distracting.
June 29, 2025 at 9:30 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Orange, are we doing crime...
Snippet of text with the line of Ye Baiyi's remembered dialogue in italics, but Xie'er's line plain. Xie’er looked out to his house, the foreboding loom of its frontage in shadow. Waited for a pang of… anything. He’d almost convinced himself he cared about the address, the excess, the lifestyle, the power, but there hadn’t been enough of him within those walls to fill a single bag. It sat wedged in the aisle of the van now, two pillows balanced on top. A crime to leave good pillows behind, Ye Baiyi had said. Heaven forbid we commit a crime, Xie’er had answered. Such an irony. They’d brought a pillow each.
June 28, 2025 at 6:21 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
But the *conceptual* load, my brain insists. The *conceptual* load is important.
Nobody gives a shit about your conceptual load, my brain answers.
I wish it could agree with itself just once, you know?!
1. With italics
2. Without
In this excerpt, the remembered lines of dialogue are in italics to differentiate them from the rest of the text. Xie’er looked out to his house, the foreboding loom of its frontage in shadow. Waited for a pang of… anything. He’d almost convinced himself he cared about the address, the excess, the lifestyle, the power, but there hadn’t been enough of him within those walls to fill a single bag. It sat wedged in the aisle of the van now, two pillows balanced on top. A crime to leave good pillows behind, Ye Baiyi had said. Heaven forbid we commit a crime, Xie’er had answered. Such an irony. They’d brought a pillow each. Same excerpt but without any italics.
June 28, 2025 at 5:45 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
1. Xie'er & Zhao Jing. CW for hospital setting, Zhao Jing is in a coma.

2. Xie'er attaching sensors to Ye Baiyi's head. They're strangers at this point.
He hasn’t moved in all this time. Each visit could be a replay of every other, a loop fed through and through the same receiver. Distorted a bit with each pass, maybe, to account for the uncanny way his wounds have healed, his scars have faded, his hair has regrown to cover them. They keep his cheeks shaved smooth and moisturised. Trim his moustache, brush his hair. They asked Xie’er whether he would like to do this, whether it would help them stay connected through the distance. Zhao Jing would hate it. Not hate to be tended to, no, he relished those moments of servitude, when Xie’er bent to his needs, tended and served in absolute obedience. But he would hate that now, he is helpless. He would hate to be the one who needed. He would hate to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands. Such is the contradiction of wealth and influence. Our relationship has never been like that, he’d told the nurse. He was tall and muscled and tidy, a favourite to hospital staff and patients alike, but everything he said sounded so insincere, so scripted, a pantomime of care. Xie’er pantomimed the good son right back. He remembered discovering the strands of silver in Ye Baiyi's hair as he combed through it with his fingers, fixing sensors to his scalp with a conductive glue that would wash off again in the shower. Thought about him showering, then, for a second or two. No more than that. Continued combing through his hair, placing sensors, circling around his nape before returning to his face.
March 6, 2025 at 3:01 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Complicated times trying to plot out the end of this draft...?
Screen readers! This alt text is mildly not safe for work! Screenshot of blurred text from a dot point outline, with one dot point still legible. It reads: Sex, question mark.
March 2, 2025 at 11:57 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Back to sorting my files, going through a bunch of screenshots.

There's an occasional YeXie thought snapped from a conversation. Also THIS, which I have no context for.
Warning that this is implicitly not safe for work! A screenshot from Discord that reads: Ye Baiyi pounding on the wall when WenZhou are finished, shouting "quitters, I'm not done yet"
February 20, 2025 at 6:21 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Morning ritual:

Watching the magical Li Daikun transformation on loop.
February 13, 2025 at 10:28 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Syncopation

Ye Baiyi/Xie Wang
1400 words
Ye Baiyi meets Xie'er. Has a million little breakdowns.

archiveofourown.org/works/62993857
(Must be logged into Ao3 to read)

For the #heysweetheart event hosted by @ficwip.bsky.social 💕

#yexie #fic
Tags and summary for the fic Syncopation by sideB_track2. Rated mature. No archive warnings apply. M/M. Xie Wang/Ye Baiyi, from the TV show Word of Honor (2021). Alternative Universe, Modern Setting. POV Second Person. POV Ye Baiyi. Age Difference. Mild Sexual Content. Sex is mentioned a lot but it's not explicit. Ye Baiyi mentions breakdowns but they're mostly metaphorical. Swearing. Drinking. WenZhou as scenery but they're referred to exclusively as "the brats." This fic is in English. Published 12 February 2025. 1436 words. Summary: The brats are right, he says, you are a monster, and not for the first time you wonder what kind of pressure it takes to make a perfect diamond, what kind of precision to cut a facet that bends the light the way he does.
February 12, 2025 at 12:07 PM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
Prompt: Apple
Restriction: 50 words, with a beginning, middle, end.
Of course it's: YeXie

Short exercise from this weekend's writing retreat.

(Revisiting the Xie'er-keeps-thinking-he's-fruit theme, also known as the Ye-Baiyi-thinks-he's-good-enough-to-eat theme.)
“You bruise like an apple,” the Sword Immortal said, the brush of his knuckle across Xie’er’s cheek as unexpected as it was gentle. “Does that mean I’m a waste,” Xie’er snapped. “That I’ll rot.” All his worst fears. “No,” and the Sword Immortal half-laughed. “It means I think you’re sweet.”
February 10, 2025 at 12:32 AM
sideb-track2.bsky.social
🎁
They're quite drunk on Zhou Zishu's dubious homebrew, and it's quite extremely NSFW.
He is boneless, half in Ye Baiyi's lap, arms around his neck, babbling don't stop over and over again. He says please sometimes. Ye Baiyi's eyes half closed and lips parted, those lips, that lovely mouth of his, Xie'er fills it with fingers and Ye Baiyi closes his eyes all the way, he is fluttering lashes and ridges of teeth and a hand between Xie'er's thighs, he is running his thumb along Xie'er's inseam, the smallest movement, it should be insignificant but Xie'er is achingly hard, trapped in the creases which almost hurts, but in a good way, hurts in a way he wants. Don't stop, and whatever Ye Baiyi says in answer is too garbled to understand, but he keeps up his trace, follows the seam, barely there, and Xie'er gasps through a tremor. Am I allowed to, he asks, and Ye Baiyi's brow furrows. How could he ever understand a question like that. Open your eyes, Xie'er whispers, gives Ye Baiyi back his mouth. I want you to watch. And Ye Baiyi blinks into focus, drifts his attention around Xie'er's face. Watch what, he whispers back, drops his attention to where he's drawing lazy circles against denim. Don't stop, Xie'er says, he is pleading, he is desperate, he is trembling on the brink. He bites his lip against every reaction as he comes, otherwise just lets it happen, lets it surge through him. Draws a shuddering breath. They both watch his jeans darken in a damp bloom that starts small, discreet, then spreads until it is obvious, unhideable. Am I pathetic, he asks, and he needs the answer to be no so badly, he changes the question. Am I allowed to be. I am extremely fucking drunk, Ye Baiyi says, and he attempts a laugh that fades before it takes form. He runs a hand over the wet spot. Tucks his fingers under Xie'er's waistband, delves beneath it until he finds the whole sticky mess. It is an answer.
February 9, 2025 at 6:43 AM