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First Time’s The Charm

Read on Ao3

PAIRING: Tech x Phee

SUMMARY: Some sweet smut about Tech and Phee’s first time together

WORDS COUNT: 2501

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with feelings, PiV, fluff, kissing

NOTES: When I’m not working on my Batch reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, I occasionally write other stuff. I have a long form WIP that will probably never be finished, so you all might as well have the smut from it.

And yes, this is virgin Tech (which is basically the opposite of him in Bad Choices), though I will fight people if they suggest that he couldn’t still be good at sex from the start. The man loves research. He knows what and where a clitoris is. I will die on this hill.

The first night Tech had stayed with Phee, it had simply been a matter of them talking too late and falling asleep on her couch. When they’d woken up in the soft morning light, both had felt sheepish. She’d laughed it off. 

“You’ll fall asleep anywhere, Brown Eyes.” He didn’t deny it.

A few days later, they were in her little workshop, telling each other stories, true stories, while she cataloged and he tinkered. As he walked her home, their hands brushed together until finally their fingers slowly intertwined. He didn’t come in, but they stood in the moonlight outside her door holding hands and talked about everything but what was happening between them.

When they had first met, so many rotations ago, she had liked him immediately, primarily because he was handsome, and then later because he was kind, brilliant, intense, and strong. He was so different from the other men she knew. Bringing them all to Pabu was impulsive, but she’d never regret doing it, giving them a safe space where they were appreciated for their kindness and desire to help, where they flourished, where Omega could have a home.

He began walking her home every night, and they would stand outside holding hands, until finally, one night, she leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

“This is nice, Tech,” she’d said, using his real name to show how serious she was. He’d looked down at her.

“Yes. I would use that descriptor as well.”

Impulsively, she’d risen onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, she was afraid she’d gone too far. His body had stiffened abruptly, but just as quickly it relaxed. The kiss was sweet and soft, close-mouthed. He’d pulled away slightly.

“I have never kissed anyone before.”

The words overwhelmed Phee. She had thought it was possible his life hadn’t allowed such things, and she wanted to be careful. 

“Is this okay? We don’t have to.” Tech stopped her by lifting her chin so they could kiss again. She pulled him in, and they stayed on her couch while she taught him something new. He was a fast learner.

He stayed with her almost every night, slowly divesting himself of the various layers that he wore as the evenings passed. First, his utility belt and pouches. The night he took off his gloves, and she had felt his bare hands on her own, against her face and neck, had made her giddy. She spent the next day mooning over him like she was a schoolgirl. She chided herself for it; she was too old and wise for this nonsense, but Phee couldn’t stop.

And it was the night he took off his goggles because their kissing had knocked them askew for the umpteenth time that she knew she’d truly fallen for him. Someone’s eyes shouldn’t have that power over her, yet she’d never met anyone so absolutely honest that it reflected perfectly in their gaze. Phee’d been with other people, of course, but she’d never let them into her life the way she let Tech in. 

Because she trusted him, and she knew this gesture from him was because he trusted her too.

*

“Can this come off tonight?” she whispered, running her hands over the chest of his blacks. Their embrace tonight had been particularly passionate and she wanted him as close to her as possible.

“Yes, I would find that acceptable.” 

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, Brown Eyes." 

"Just...proceed slowly." 

Phee was trying to do just that. She’d imagined the first time they had sex, that she’d take him to a field of flowers or a beach at sunset…or the back of a library. But now she knew none of those was going to happen.

She circled him, her hand never breaking contact as she felt the contours of his body under the fabric. Finally, she faced him and slowly pulled up the shirt. She ran the back of her hand against his skin, noted that he was hardly breathing. She waited for him to relax, then pulled the shirt off, leaving his torso fully bare. She could feel his tension as he lay back on the bed, his eyes slightly glazed.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she lay beside him.

“Yes,” but the word was almost inaudible.

Tentatively, she stroked his chest, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. She didn’t know what she expected, but his slim, muscular frame fulfilled any fantasy she had had. Her fingers fluttered over a scar on his shoulder. 

"Droid," he said. Another scar on his side. "Knife wound. Not from Hunter," he smiled. He turned slightly and showed her one on his hip. "Shrapnel, only partially because of Wrecker." She leaned over, kissing each of them. Hungry for him, she kissed a trail from his hip to his chest. Impulsively, she licked his nipple, and he cried out in shock. Phee drew back quickly. 

“I'm sorry." 

"No, no. That felt...intense. I was not expecting it.” He drew her to him, kissed her, then whispered, "Do it again." 

Hungrily, her lips moved along his neck, drinking in every reaction he had to her touch, then down to his other nipple. Tentatively, she licked it, feeling the hitch in his breathing, then gently raked it with her teeth. He moaned. She did the same on the other side, reveling in his response to her. 

His hands began to roam around her body, finding their way under her shirt. On fire, she pulled it off and let him explore her at his own pace. She was desperate to feel his skin against her own, but she did not want to overwhelm him. As she had explored him, his hands did the same to her; caressing the small of her back, the nape of her neck, the curve of her breasts. She gasped at his touch, inflamed, desperate for more. He pulled her closer, and she pressed her body against his, chest to chest. He rolled on top of her, lips locked together, one of his legs between her own. All her control was gone. 

She let her hand slide down to the growing bulge in his pants. 

"I want to touch you," she said, giving him time to stop her, but he was as inflamed as she was. He groaned and arched his back as her hand cupped him. His responses to her were unbelievable, feeding the flames of her desire.

“Please, take this off.” She fumbled at his pants. “Please, if you are ready.”

He stood and pulled them off, as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. Standing next to him, looking into his eyes, she took his erection in her hand. It took every ounce of his self control not to climax right then, the sensations were so overwhelming. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. She leaned forward to kiss him and look into his beautiful eyes. She took his hand, and together they guided his length into her as she lowered herself onto him. 

He cried out as he entered her. She moved slowly, never breaking eye contact, until he was fully inside her. 

“Tech, if you become uncomfortable or need us to stop—”

“I can manage,” he said, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on her, fingers intertwined. She waited a few moments, letting their bodies acclimate to the new sensations, then together they slowly began moving, finding a rhythm that suited them both. 

He held her hips and pushed his pelvis up to be as deep inside her as he could. Her gasps and cries excited him in a way he had never felt, his body responding on instinct as she rocked against him more insistently. 

He could see her eyes losing focus, even as he could sense the same in himself, as he felt the build up in his body, a pressure he had never experienced and did not fully understand. This was so different from the furtive, utilitarian fumblings he managed in the ‘fresher when the need arose.    

In a move that took her breath away, he pressed himself up, put his arm around her waist, and rotated both of them so he was on top of her. The absolutely feral cry she gave him as her limbs wrapped around his body nearly sent him over the edge. He held her close, trying to slow down, to make this last longer, this sweet, intense, incredible feeling. 

She refused to let it happen. She rocked her pelvis against him, desperate for him to lose control, to match her passion. He gasped. 

"I need to...Phee, if you do not stop…I am too close," he groaned. 

"We'll do this again," she whispered. "I want you. I want you inside me. I want to feel you." She felt incoherent, but she also felt him let go. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his arm, giving him an angle to somehow be deeper inside her. His body took over, his thrusts stronger, wilder. Her hands pressed on his lower back, encouraging him. 

Her moans of, "Yes, please, yes. Tech. Yes," finally put him over the edge. The absolute bliss of the orgasm was almost too much for him. He buried his head in her neck, drowning himself in her essence, as it pulsed over his body. He lay still on top of her for what he thought was an eternity as the sensation slowly drifted away, leaving him tingling all over like exposed nerves. 

Cautiously, she stroked her hand down his back. He shuddered a bit but didn't say anything, then slowly slid out of her as he rolled next to her. 

"That was amazing," she whispered.

“I…quite agree.” He lifted his head and looked at her, "But you did not..." His voice trailed off. 

She smiled, kissed him, "That's not always the most important part of sex. The...intimacy...this closeness I feel with you, right now. This is better. But also, that was still incredible. You're a natural."

"I did do some research before this encounter…Though it did not prepare me for the intensity of the physical stimulation." She laughed.

"Why is that funny? As I do not have any experience in this area, I wanted to be prepared."

"The idea of you doing research about this on your datapad is very funny, but I'm not going to complain about the results." She rolled out of bed to clean up. 

"It will take a little time before I can physically do this again, but.." For a moment he seemed almost shy, "...would you want to when I am ready?"

She got back into the bed, snuggling next to him. 

"Yes," she said huskily.

“You were correct,” he said, pulling her close against him, “This was... special. More than just a physical act.” He felt foolish for ever having suggested otherwise in one of their long conversations. His voice drifted off, and she thought he might fall asleep, but instead they lay in wakeful silence, intertwined. 

“What is going on in there?" she asked.  

In reply, his hands again began roaming over her body. Lightly, his fingertips raised goosebumps on her arms and down her back. She shivered but felt herself opening again for him. His fingers caressed her breasts, tracing a path around them until he moved and his mouth found her hard nipples. He gently stimulated one, then the other, with his tongue. 

Now that his mind had cleared, he was studying her carefully. Every action and response was filed away. His hand stroked down her side, then to her already parted legs. He kissed her as his fingers explored between her legs, and he drank up her moans. He slid a wet finger up until he found her clit and just barely made contact with it, feeling her body tighten at the touch. He rubbed against it and was rewarded with a deep gasp. He slid two fingers inside of her, leaving his thumb to work against her sensitive nub. Her reaction was instant. Her thighs closed around his hand, and she groaned as his long fingers reached deeper into her.

"Tech," she whispered. "I need you...I need you inside me." 

"Yes, but this type of stimulation will help you to orgasm. I want to ensure that first."

She shook her head, "Oh it feels so good, but I...I don't finish like that. I need..." In her state, words were hard to come by, "...the internal stimulation." 

It took only a moment for him to process this, and then, "It does seem as if I am ready to fulfill this need." Her hand had been stroking him to hardness, but he was so focused on her he had barely noticed.

He pressed into her, slowly, each stroke entering her only a little more than the last, until one had a very pronounced reaction. Then he came up slightly on his knees, lifting her legs with him, sure that this angle would allow him better access to this most important spot. He began with short thrusts and was rewarded by her immediate cries. 

"Yes, oh, Tech, yes, right there," though her physical reaction would have been enough for him to know he had gotten it right. Her hands had grabbed onto the covers, clawing at the sheets. He timed himself to match the crescendo of her moans and whimpers, varying his strokes, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, then returning to stimulate this more sensitive area, watching the build up of tension in her body, noting how her arms moved in spasms, her eyes closed tight, her mouth whispering incoherently. 

Suddenly her fingers were digging into his forearm, her cries a higher pitched staccato than what had come before, and he watched the orgasm overtake her body. She writhed under him, his thrusts against her sensitive inner wall bringing wave after wave of pleasure. As her reaction finally subsided, he lay over the top of her, kissing her deeply, drinking in everything about her, feeling almost more satisfied now than when he had had his own orgasm. He rocked into her gently, feeling the length of himself enclosed in her, enjoying this unimagined intimacy and reveling in the whole of her. 

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could, breathing him into her. He pressed his forehead to hers as he let the second orgasm flow through his body, kissing her, needing her, wanting her.

“Good job, Brown Eyes,” she smiled. “Hard to believe that was your first time.” She liked seeing that satisfied glint in his eyes that came from praise.

“Yes, well, there is always room for improvement, especially since there seem to be an infinite variety of positions, techniques, and implements that can be used to enhance—”

She silenced him with her lips. “Slow down. Let’s just enjoy tonight.” 

And they did.

* *

I also write a smutty Bad Batch reverse harem series that can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

I will never forgive that Gandalf tweet.

Tech lives. And my autocorrect always wants this:

Tech loves.

pspsps techgirlies, i saw your man on pabu

Bedtime Stories

I’m multishipping garbage, so I decided to write a little TechPhee fix-it piece because they deserved so much better. They’ve also got a newborn.

Phee was pulled from the gentle sea of sleep by the precise staccato of a familiar whisper. Before giving birth to Aroha, she had been a heavy sleeper, but having a newborn had somehow made her more prone to waking at the slightest noise, her brain filled with one phrase: “the baby”. Phee rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rolled over towards the source of the sound. A broad, scarred, brown back topped by a head of grey-streaked auburn hair cut through the moonlight flooding through the window, and Phee felt warmth down to the very pit of her stomach.

She sat up and scooted towards the opposite edge of the bed. When she reached her husband’s warmth, she rested her chin on his shoulder. Tech glanced up from the quiet bundle in his arms and turned to Phee, stealing a quick but scorching kiss from her parted lips.

“The baby okay?” asked Phee, reaching down and stroking an old, silvery scar that ran like a ravine across Tech’s left pectoral.

“Yes,” he replied, still whispering, “Aroha was sound asleep. I, however, was not.” It wasn’t uncommon for Tech to pick their daughter up from the bassinet beside their bed in the middle of the night, and it had been like pulling teeth to get him to admit that his dreams were the catalyst.

“Another of your dreams?” asked Phee, reaching down to run a gentle index finger along Aroha’s chubby cheek. The newborn’s eyelids twitched, but she remained lost in slumber.

“The one with the needles and the electricity,” said Tech, his voice cracking. He pulled his daughter closer to his chest and took in a tremulous breath.

“Oh, Brown Eyes,” Phee said before tilting his strong chin towards her and kissing him deeply. She felt a tear escape her eye. When the kiss broke, Phee stroked the side of Tech’s neck. “It’s all over. You’re on Pabu.”

“Sometimes, I am prone to forgetting,” said Tech, his voice colored by guilt for horrible things that he didn’t remember, and yet had been forced to do.

“I know,” replied Phee, only to be interrupted by a shrill cry.

Aroha’s wide, brown eyes opened for a moment before a shrill cry for her mother erupted from her toothless mouth.

“She’s hungry,” said Phee as she plucked the baby from her husband’s arms, lifted her shirt, and allowed Aroha to latch on and feed.

Tech turned around and looked at his wife and daughter with a warm smile, and the motorized components in his prosthetic arm hummed as he adjusted the silk bonnet that sat askew atop Phee’s locs.

“You are beautiful,” he said, “so is little Aroha. She has your smile.”

Phee’s heart lept as though she were a schoolgirl talking to her first crush, “she’s got your pretty eyes, Tech. What were you talking to her about tonight?”

Tech took Phee’s flesh hand in his cybernetic one. It was warm. “I was simply telling young Aroha the tale of the Prince in the Cursed Mask and the Pirate Queen whose kiss broke the spell,” he said.

Phee hummed and gave Aroha a smile, “how’s it end?”

“Just like this,” said Tech.

They Will Not See

Read on AO3

Am I in a bad way about Season 3 and the finale? Yes.

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a sweet, unexpected night in bed with Tech.

WORDS COUNT: 1274

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV

NOTES: This is installment eighteen of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a sweet, intimate stand-alone Tech story. And I do love Tech losing a little of his control, especially since he’s kind of Dom in the series.

Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Tech watches you sleep. This is a recent development.

Usually, he would disentangle himself and leave the bed as soon as you drifted off, staying that long only because he knows you enjoy not falling asleep alone. He has spent his entire life sleeping in close proximity to one or more people, so he understands the general idea that this might be comforting. Tech can fall asleep anywhere, under almost any conditions. He has never accidentally fallen asleep, at least not since he was a cadet, but, when circumstances allow, he can just pass out. He overheard someone on an extended mission refer to him as the king of the power nap, which he took as a compliment.

You have always rested on Tech in casual moments; physical contact clearly being one of the ways you show affection. Touch has never been important to Tech. He has never had the need to show anyone affection or have it shown to him. In his life, he has categorized touch as negative or neutral. The addition of sex as physical intimacy has expanded the categories slightly. The touch associated with sex is usually positive. He certainly enjoys the physical sensations he experiences during sexual activities, and he understands that touch pre- and post- said activities is something you need, but it was not something he previously thought about for himself.

With the regular addition of multiple partners to your intimate activities, and their own needs for your attention, the idle time you spend with him has diminished, and, to his surprise, he misses that. He also finds that when he returns to the bedroom and sees you sleeping intertwined with someone, there is an unfamiliar feeling present. He wouldn’t call it jealousy, because he has never previously experienced that emotion, but he might acknowledge that it could be adjacent to that on an emotional spectrum.

So, he watches you, considering, then he puts down his datapad and stays next to you, your head resting on his shoulder. After a few minutes, your body fully turns and presses to him, your arm on his chest. He decides this is not a neutral touch and recategorizes it as positive, and then he falls asleep.

*

You are dreaming. Tech is kissing your neck, and his hand is cradling your head. He’s whispering soft words to you as he nuzzles your ear. You don’t understand what he is saying, but you can tell that the words are sweet.

For a moment, you feel bad; this must be Wrecker or maybe Hunter, but you refuse to wake up, instead basking in the gentle touch of someone who rarely touches you gently. You don’t remember either of them being there, but Tech doesn’t stay in bed with you.

Dream Tech kisses you, pressing his lips to yours before you open your mouth to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You hear your name whispered with such a tone that your whole body shivers.

A knee nudges between your legs, parting them slightly, and then another spreads you open, and his body is flush to your own. A strong arm nestles to one side of your head, and you finally open your eyes, ready to let the dream go, to stop this nighttime lover before it goes too far. But it’s still Tech above you, his eyes partly closed, and you feel an unexpected excitement and warmth course through your body. You pull his face down to yours to kiss him more, your fingertips running through his short hair, against the strap that keeps his goggles a permanent part of his face, like Wrecker’s scar and Hunter and Crosshair’s tattoos.

As he begins to slide into you, you softly cry out his name into his ear. He stops for a moment, as if confused, and you wonder if he thought he was dreaming as well. At least it was your name he called out. His eyes are fully open now, looking at you. You smile and tip your hips up to encourage him to continue. Another moment passes and then he is buried inside you.

He’s moving slowly, almost hesitant. It’s been a long time since someone was in your bed who could initiate the dreamy fun of middle-of-the-night sex, and maybe Tech has never done this at all, considering he rarely even falls asleep in your bed. Would he have slept in others’?

But it feels so good. So nice. So satisfying. His body is against yours, his strokes long and careful, and when he fills you, he presses in just a little more, and you murmur at the pleasure of it. You could do this all night, whispering encouragement in his ear, telling him how you never want this to stop, how good it feels. You squeeze yourself around his cock, gratified to hear him make a small sound of satisfaction, moving your hips to meet him. Your arms wrap around him, feeling those strong muscles in his back, feeling his ass tighten as he pushes into you.

He’s different, his breath catching more right now than when he is pounding into you. He hooks your leg over his arm, finding an angle to be deeper into you. He stays like this, rolling his hips against you as you moan in ecstasy.

Eventually, he has to stop, holding himself still as he tries to control himself, but you can tell he’s close. You move under him, tightening around him in tantalizing pulses, pressing him into you, not letting him collect himself enough to halt his body.

“Wait,” he whispers to you. “I will finish too soon.”

“No,” you answer. “I want you to come.” You keep moving against him, feeling his resolve giving way.

“But you…you have not…”

“It’s okay. This feels so good. I don’t want to change it. Come in me like this.” And you want him to lose a little of his usual control. He looks into your eyes before giving in.

His pace picks up slightly, as you push against him, your fingers raking along his back, your teeth finding his shoulder. His lips are to yours, muffling his moan as he starts to come, pumping inside of you.

You cry out in shared bliss, holding him tight, your legs wrapped around his, riding every wave, until his face is nuzzled against your own, his breaths against your neck.

*

You lie on his chest, his arm around you. You thought he’d fall right back to sleep, but you can feel the wakefulness in his body. You stroke your fingers against his chest, then absentmindedly lick his nipple.

“Mmph,” he groans in surprise, catching your hand in his. He turns his head slightly to you. “I feel that I have left a task incomplete.”

“Tech,” you laugh. “I’m not an item on a checklist…or are you concerned about your perfect record?” He rolls his eyes, but you can tell you’re partly correct. “Do I seem any less satisfied to you than at other times?” He has no response. “Then leave it…Or leave it til morning. Let me just enjoy this.” You feel his body relax slightly in acquiescence.

Yes, you want to soak this up. A few hours of soft Tech, with sex no less intense or satisfying because he wasn’t rough with you – with his strong, naked body against you, and his attention not diverted by his datapad. You don’t want to fall asleep yet, but slowly his warmth and steady breathing lull your eyes to close.

In the morning, he ticks off that final box on his checklist before he leaves.

*

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

A great service was done unto us when this gif was made.

Okay, I’m not a Tech person, but even I have to admit that this shot

🥵😳🤤😮‍💨🥴😩

The animators really had to give it to us and I’m NOT complaining

As far as I’m concerned, this doesn’t contradict canon at all.

I love it.

I see your old man Tech. And I raise you, Tech and Phee together.

Ohhh challenge accepted! They’re just having a nice relaxing afternoon on Pabu enjoying the sun and being alive and happy and old together. Perhaps they just got back from an adventure?

If anyone wants to say this goes against canon, I will fight you.

May the fourth be with you all! 😊

I wanted to draw something Star Wars related for this day, but was kind of still down and sad, thanks Bad Batch finale 🙂

Anyway, the only drawing I could come up with was my own take on old Tech, because I will reject canon and make my own. (it was also fun to realize I have no idea how to draw older people while trying to draw an older gentleman lol)

I'd like to think that after season 2 ended, and Echo left to do his own things, he went back to Eriadu to look for Tech, found him, and took him somewhere safe to heal up. His healing process was long, and that's why he wasn't around during season 3.

And he wasn't on Pabu during the epilogue, because he was already away on some rebel base, maybe on Yavin 4, waiting for Omega to join him so they both could be badass pilots.

After all, like Omega said, the rebellion needs pilots.

Then, one day, as Tech is fixing up his x-wing, he sees a new ship arrive. It flies fast and a little reckless, but is clearly controlled by a talented pilot. And then, as the ship turns to land, he recognizes the move it pulled - the 'Tech turn'.

He smiles, waiting for the pilot to exit her ship.

I’m crying. This is perfect and beautiful and it is canon.

He's a Disney prince ♕

Does not contradict canon. I love him.

i know he spends hours down at the beach collecting "samples" (cool rocks)

People really are out here acting like Tech couldn't possibly have survived the fall because of the epilogue.

Wrecker was fine and she took Lula.

'She didn't say 'take care of Tech'' ofc not that man can handle himself and he has Phee.

Gregor came back from the dead--TWICE--with zero explanation as to how. None. He just shows up in Rebels and TBB. But Tech could not possibly~ have survived. In the 'people randomly come back franchise' we must have an exception for the autistic MoC with a black love interest, apparently.

lmao

I agree with all of this.

I understand that people are going to cope how they are going to cope, and trying to find meaning in the handling of Tech in season three is part of that, but it’s also okay to criticize the show.

I like a good character death. Tech’s departure was not that. My issue is not that he’s presumed dead, my issue is that it and the handling of it is nonsense. So (I once again get very negative about my favorite show under the cut):

1. When you kill off a main character, you really have to kill them off. How you do so can vary from story to story, but you really have to do four things:

One, you need a good reason to kill them off in the first place. (“Stakes” is not a good reason. A secondary character, sure, but not a main one. More on that in a minute.)

Two, you need to make it perfectly clear that the character is, in fact, dead.

Three, you need to show the other characters processing and accepting that death. This is important because doing so will allow the audience to do the same and let the character go. This is especially important if you’re writing for a young audience.

Four, you need to make it explicitly clear that the character cannot come back. This is especially true in sci fi or fantasy. Especially if you’re the Character Resurrection franchise.

And guess what the show didn’t do?

Any of that. Any of it. What it did instead was ambiguously remove Tech from the story (uniquely in a show that loves making us watch characters die on screen; last time we saw Tech for sure he was alive), never gave a good reason for doing so in or out of the show, never showed us any character working through the impact of his loss (even though there was ample opportunity for Omega, especially, to do so), and ripped the “could he come back?” box wide open by parading CX-2 in front of our faces. It is never, at any point, handled like an actual main character death. It’s handled as a plot point from which the narrative moves fairly quickly, and treated by all parties as an absence. By all the rules of storytelling, Tech isn’t dead. He’s just ambiguously gone. And that means the writing team did a terrible job if what they wanted to do was kill him off. We should not be debating this after the show has ended if he’s actually dead.

2. I understand why some fans are trying to find meaning in losing Tech. I am not, because that meaning is not offered by the text itself. And, if the plan was to never bring him back, it should have been.

We are not, for example, offered a lesson about how not everyone comes home from the war. In order for that to have been the case, we would have needed to see someone, probably Omega, working through that. We would have needed to see her refusing to accept that Tech is gone—like we do in Plan 99, by the way—and slowly coming to terms with the idea that her brother isn’t coming home. But we don’t get that, not even as subtext.

Something else we could have gotten that would have worked with all the little visual reminders of Tech, empty chairs, name-drops, and even the CX-2 leading? The batch being so haunted by losing Tech and not really knowing what happened to him for sure that they start seeing him everywhere. But for that to work we would have needed, again, to see that as an explicit subplot where someone, probably Omega, again, gets really invested in the signs that Tech is coming back and even starts assuming that CX-2 is him, only to realize that she’s seeing what she wants to see and having to accept that Tech isn’t coming back, but that she can still keep Tech’s memory alive by following in his footsteps. That’s something you can kind of project onto what we’re given in the epilogue, but you do have to project it, because it’s entirely absent from the rest of the show.

As is, Tech’s sacrifice isn’t given any weight. From a narrative perspective, it was an incredibly contrived set of circumstances that accomplished nothing except punting Tech off a train, and gave Tech no choice but to remove himself from the story—exit, stage down. Losing Tech doesn’t, even sub-textually, serve as anyone’s motivation. It does nothing to move the plot or anyone’s character development forward. The primary motivators of season three were Omega’s kidnapping, Crosshair’s PTSD, and Hemlock needing to get Omega back.

Tech’s absence does nothing to move anything forward and only really serves to slow the plot down and make the others struggle to do anything because he’s not there to carry the team like he did in the first two seasons—and nothing about that would have played out any differently if Tech spent the season in a coma in a bacta tank. The only part of Tech’s sacrifice that has meaning is that he loved his family enough to offer it. And that is profound, but that’s not something that would be negated by a return because the love and the offer remain. As for his presumed death? His return couldn’t have taken meaning away from that, because the show never gave it any meaning in the first place.

And no, Tech “dying” isn’t something I have to accept. Tech isn’t a real person, he’s an idea, and an idea that didn’t come to fruition. I can point out the ways the handling of his departure didn’t work all day if I want.

3. CX-Tech was not an overly online theory. I need people to understand this. It was an assumption made by most of the casual audience. My sister, who has no contact with the fandom and doesn’t like me discussing the show at all until she’s seen it, assumed he was Tech. My brother-in-law, who was a die-hard Tech-has-to-be-dead-shut-up guy for the entire hiatus and the first half of season three, was convinced he was Tech. Every kid I’ve spoken to who watched the show thought he was Tech and is deeply confused that he got speared like that. My brother, who doesn’t even watch the show but who does walk by when I’m watching it sometimes, thought he was Tech. You can’t get more casual and away from the fandom than that.

The thing is, the answer we get isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “We’re not telling.” Which means that as it currently stands, a season-and-a-half of CX buildup amounted to a five minute boss fight and a non-answer. That’s…not something that works! That’s atrocious writing if that was the whole sum of their intent all along.

And you can say, well, that was a clever misdirect! Plot twist! Except, one, misdirects and twists only work if the real answer is more satisfying than the false one, otherwise it just falls flat. Two, if it was a misdirect, it’s not one the creative team is willing to own. No one will touch the Tech-CX-2 parallels with a twenty-foot pole, except the Kiners, who have incredibly meaningful explanations for every musical choice but then say shit like, “that chord just sounds good in brass” about Battle of the Snipers (…before going on to say that the four note lose motif from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif…which is also all over Battle of the Snipers…and is only there according because the batch is divided in that scene, a scene in which Crosshair’s leitmotif is entirely absent even though he’s just supposed to be fighting his own dark side represented by a guy who’s totally not Tech. Sure. I’m going to go eat drywall.) Because acknowledging that and saying that was supposed to be Tech will just make the audience angrier, and they may not even be allowed to do so, and saying that it is Tech—you can understand why they can’t do that, right? The implications are horrific. But that horrific implication is probably what at least some of the casual audience who will never interact with the fandom or a single interview is going to walk away with.

4. The thing that bothers me most about all of this is the combined toxicity of the fandom and the leading from the marketing and social media. Part of the fandom saying that there were never any signs Tech could have survived (in Star Wars, no less) is starting to feel like gaslighting; and while I don’t think there was any malice in the leading in the marketing and social media—I’m even willing to give a tiny bit of leeway for the creative team maybe knowing something we don’t yet—it was handled badly, expectations for this season should have been set early and clearly, and as of right now it all feels like an incredibly cruel prank at autistic fans expense, whatever the intent may have been or may still be.

5. And finally, here’s the thing: I’m willing to give the writers a bit of leeway on this. I’m willing to grant that some choices may have been out of their hands for unknown reasons. I’m even willing to say that maybe they’re not really done with this story yet, that The Bad Batch could just be the first chapter of a longer show that was split up for stupid business reasons, and that the finale is the way it is because they had to have an ending of sorts without actually resolving anything. I’m willing to grant a lot of grace there. In fact, I actually think there’s a very good chance we’ll still get Tech back alive in canon, and sooner than later, if only because no one (not even the voice actors) seems happy about this, most fans are coping but disappointed at best, the creative team got asked about Tech non-stop for a solid year and a half, and the writers don’t seem at all committed. We know from the rest of the show that they know how to definitively kill a guy, and, frankly, Tech in the first two seasons comes across as something of a writer favorite. They like using him!

But whatever I’m hoping or suspecting, and whatever leeway I’m willing to grant the creative team here, the final product is all we have right now. And I am going to criticize that final product for badly handling a (presumed) character death and straight up breaking the central conceit of the show in doing so.

Before it all went horribly wrong 😩.

But also, Tech is so fucking hot in this.

For @bad-batch-lurker

Tech being a badass in "The Summit." He and Hunter's shootout with the Stormtroopers. Lightened, brightened, sharpened and slomo.

Night Three

Full fic on Ao3

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You’ve spent the last two nights hooking up with a handsome stranger. You promise yourself this is the last time.

WORDS COUNT: 1311

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, oral sex (female receiving), touch of Dom!Tech

NOTES: This is Part 3 of the first installment of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3. Yes, this is how I channeled my extra energy after the Season 2 finale.

Although it’s written in second person, my heroine eventually has a very established relationship with the Batch.

“This is the last time,” you tell yourself. You’re not waiting for this man at a bar anymore. It doesn’t matter how this night ends, good or bad. At the moment odds are 40/60 bad, based on the fact that you’re lying on the cold floor of a spaceship, dress gone, underwear lost, legs spread, and half fucked. He’s fixing something and not giving you any relief. This is not ideal.

When he finally appeared, you didn’t stay long. He kissed you ravenously, paid your tab, then pulled you out of the bar. He put you on top of a speeder, which you assume he stole since he ditched it a short way from the spaceport. He seemed hungry for you tonight, based on the way he’d been kissing you, pressing you against walls and ships to manhandle you. Finally, one of the ships had a gangway open, and he practically carried you up the stairs before shutting the door behind you both.

He immediately stripped off your dress and panties and lifted you so your legs hooked around his waist, your lips locked together, and you ground yourself against…some kind of pouch. Maybe a tool belt. You couldn’t tell. After what he did to you last night, you were beyond horny and were desperate to feel him inside you again. He pinned you to the wall, his hands between your legs, two fingers sliding knuckle deep into you. You whimpered, needing more. And then he…just put you down. A noise from the ship’s console had distracted him, and he’d turned to it immediately.

“That should not be happening,” he’d said, echoing your own thoughts, as you watched him pull a tool off his belt, crouch under the control panel to examine the issue, then lie on his back and start working.

Your brain could not process what was happening. One moment you were ready to get absolutely railed by this tall, handsome stranger, and now he’d gone full mechanic mode. Legs unsteady, you staggered over to one of the chairs and collapsed into it. You watched him work for a moment before noticing the large bulge still in his pants. He wasn’t so far under the panel that you couldn’t get to him, so you decided to throw caution to the wind. What was the worst that could happen?

He didn’t make any noise when you straddled his thighs, and he barely twitched when your hand stroked the length of him through his pants. You did it again, this time cupping his balls with one hand as the other worked up his shaft, feeling him harden fully, and then began undoing the fastening that kept him from you. You groaned when you finally saw his erection, feeling its heat in your palms. Since he still hadn’t stopped you, or the work he was doing, you eased yourself up, rubbing the head against your wet opening, then sinking yourself down on him.

That got his attention. He paused and looked at you. You could see your reflection in his ever present goggles. You could not suppress your cry as you felt yourself spread around him. He watched you fuck yourself on him, one hand holding on to the console to support yourself, knees screaming in protest against the cold hard metal floor. You felt him shift slightly to meet you and heard the clink of his tools placed next to him.

His hands grasped your hips, and then, in a move that was truly incomprehensible to you, he lifted you off of him and deposited you on the floor.

You lay there stunned for a moment, watching him refasten his pants and hearing his tools clinking again as he worked under the console.

In response to your cry of frustration, you hear him say, “You began prematurely.” Defeated, you don’t move until he finally gets up and offers you a hand. “Don’t pout,” he says, putting you back into one of the chairs.

You sit still, the cold torture against your hot skin. He tinkers around the ship for a few minutes more before returning, having removed his belt and a number of the pouches that were strapped to his body.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks, coming down on one knee in front of you, spreading your legs, pulling your hips toward him, while pushing your torso back. You whimper, feeling his breath along your thighs. He lifts your hips, his face dipping between your legs, taking in the mingled scent of his musk and your excitement. His tongue traces around your swollen labia, tasting you, then flits against your clit, making you moan. He holds your wrists firmly, as he fully presses his lips around you, sucking roughly, using his tongue to ravage your sensitive tip. You’re so close, so tantalizingly close, that of course he stops, but just for a moment. He’s undone his pants, thick cock ready.

Demonstrating his strength again, he lifts you onto him, before switching places with you on the chair. You sink down on him, moaning in sweet relief. He moves with you this time, thrusting into you as you fuck him. You use his shoulders for leverage as you bring yourself up and down on his length. His hand reaches between you, collecting your wetness from his shaft, then catching your swollen nub between his fingers, tugging and stroking it, while your cries become wilder and louder. The orgasm is blinding and made more intense by the rough rhythm he is keeping inside you, taking you through waves and waves of bliss.

“I don’t think I can move,” you whisper as you collapse against him, your pussy pulsing around his thickness.

“That will not be a problem,” he answers, almost snarkily, not that you care anymore. He holds your hips down as he pushes deeper into you. When you tighten around him, he gasps, his thrusts losing their rhythm but making up for it in force. The friction stimulates you again, and you’re moaning against his shoulder, trying to ride him. He groans and starts to say something.

“I don’t object,” you answer before he forms the words. His hands grasp your hips firmly, moving you in time with his thrusts, until finally with a loud gasp, you feel him orgasm inside you. You keep rocking your hips on him as his cock twitches. Finally he stops you, and you press yourself to his chest, taking a few minutes to recover. With great effort, you lift yourself off him, his cum spilling out of you, onto his softening cock, down your thigh. He catches you as your legs give way and gently places you back in the chair, which is now much warmer than earlier. He cleans you both up with a soft towel he produced out of nowhere, and lets you rest.

You jerk awake from a light doze. You hadn’t been asleep too long since you’re not yet chilled by the cool air of the ship. You retrieve and slip on your dress, but your underwear are nowhere to be found.

He’s sitting in the pilot’s chair, working at the console, and turns to you as you approach.

“Would you like me to return you to your domicile?”

“Hmmmm?” You pretend to contemplate as you lean down to kiss him. “But I’m not tired.”

Your hand drifts into his lap, your fingers stroking along the outline of his hardening cock. The console beeps, a comm signal. He answers.

“Tech. We’re ready for pick up.”

“Understood. I will leave momentarily.”

You sigh. “Well that’s disappointing.”

“Transit time is 1.12 hours…if you would like to accompany me.” He’s already stood and lifted you against the console, your legs wrapped around him. You can hear him pushing buttons behind you, but you don’t care.

He really is impossible to refuse.

*

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

I love them.

Some more sweet Tech/Phee because I love this couple with all my heart. I need to see them happy together. They deserve to be happy. ❤️

I worked on this to give myself some comfort because season three is bringing me down, and to also practice shading. It’s still a bit messy, but I like it this way.

A warm thank you to all who favorited and reblogged my last Tech/Phee piece. I really appreciate it ❤️

Tech Lives

Wow. I thought I’d be better by now, but no, I’m still not ready to interact with any media or opinion or art (fan and official) that assumes Tech isn’t coming back. That they lived out the rest of their days without him. That shit is too bleak for me.

I saw some art earlier that said “They all survived” with no inclusion of Tech, and I immediately had all the feels.

Yeah, I’m firmly “no body/no death” and we’re talking about Star Wars so I expect him to show up in a future show/comic/book with zero explanation for his survival. I mean, he’s Tech. We don’t think he had a number of scenarios cooked up while hanging there? Bitch, please.

While I think Tech probably has a nice ass based on all the squatting he does, that’s a bit more junk in the trunk than I’d expect. 🤣

Oh what have i done?! LMAO @ct-9902 why did you have to do this to me?

Based on this post

also the back pose was inspired by a sketch dump of mohammed agbadi

Oh hey it’ll let me post the video version of that WIP now (tumblr was freaking out before):

2 seconds after the first kiss and they’re such dorks 🥹

What an absolute stud.

Tech appreciation post. ♥️