#tech tbb

[clone-trooper-cheese]

My head fr

[ser-ott]

my headcanon tech 🙏 i missed doing TBB art

[umbramoons]

TECH MOMENTS PT. 23

The Bad Batch S2 E5: Entombed

I am BACK, lovelies! I've finally got free time now that University has let out for summer break. You can bet I'll be back to praising my man full-time now.

- “This story changes every time she tells it.” So he's been paying close attention every time she’s talked. ❤

- “Ah. Nicely done, Wrecker.”

- THE WAY PHEE JUST WALKS UP AND TOUCHES HIS JAW and Tech doesn't look surprised by it AT ALL. He's not shocked or upset by the light touch (or the nickname "Quickdraw"), but he's also not sure what to make of it. Is this a common thing for them at this point? ❤

- Tech looks amazing in this green lighting. ❤

- “It is a manifold regulator. And a broken one, at that.” He’s just trying to be helpful.

- He looks up SO fast when Phee goes “Hang on.”

- Gosh, even the movement of him folding his arms is so smooth and elegant. ❤

- He immediately starts getting info for Phee, even though she didn't ask for it. ❤

- OH MY GOSH, HE SMILES WHEN PHEE SAYS THAT THE BEST TREASURES USUALLY AREN’T FOUND ON MAPS. He started liking her WAY quicker than I initially realized.

- His eyes get so wide and curious when the compass starts acting up ❤

- He’s the first to follow after Phee and Omega.

- Tech and Phee both have very pronounced egos. They would totally feed off of each other, but also be eager to take the other down a peg when needed.

- He's the only person to help with the symbols without being asked. And not only does he help, he instructs Wrecker to lend a hand again. He’s into this. We were robbed of a married treasure hunting couple. ❤

- “My interest is certainly piqued.” ❤

- "Phee may be onto something." He backs her up! ❤

- He brings out his blaster so fast to protect Wrecker.

- Tech is the one leading the way through the tunnels.

- Ordering the others to get their blasters with just a look. ❤

- When they first see the treasure, Tech is standing so close to Phee, it looks like he could have a hand on her waist.

- The way he looks at her when she gets excited about the treasure (right before she goes down to get it). He already likes her, but he doesn’t know what that means yet.

- Grabbing onto Wrecker when he starts falling. ❤

- He looks really pretty in the glow cast by all these lights.

- “I suspect this is not, in fact, a treasure vault.”

- He looks directly at Phee when he suggests returning the stone. He knows that she's the one he needs to convince. His eyes are so soft and patient here. ❤

- Fighting the dragon for a while, then realizing that dismantling the mech is more important and focusing on that. 

- “I'm trying, but nothing is working!” 

- I love that Omega is the one to help him shut it down. She is literally his apprentice.

- “This puts us at 0 for 2 in treasure hunting. Even with a professional.” ❤

- The way he just holds Phee’s gaze when she looks at him after that last comment. I feel like he almost imperceptibly backs off a little bit when she looks at him. Maybe even softens. I can’t specify because I can’t see his eyes here. ❤

- He TOTALLY has a TINY smile on his face when Phee starts talking about another treasure. He finds her passion amusing. Maybe even a little endearing. ❤

(Also, I did find a goofy animation error in this episode while I was putting this post together. I'll probably make a post about that soon.)

[mrsnaildood]

... so apparently it was Plan 99's anniversary 🥳

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“You Talk Too Much (And I Like It)”

Tech x Reader

You always had a lot to say. About everything. Planets, food, stories from childhood, dreams you had the night before, conspiracy theories, music recommendations, the absolute travesty that was the vending machine on Cid’s ship. Most people tuned you out after five minutes. Echo smiled politely. Wrecker nodded along even if he didn’t follow. Hunter gave that big brother, I’m listening but please stop look. But Tech—

Well, Tech never said much at all.

You were sitting beside him in the Marauder, your legs crossed on the seat, recounting—quite animatedly—a story about the time you tried to fix a speeder bike and ended up launching it through your neighbor’s wall. Your hands flailed in the air like you were directing a play.

“And I swear, it wasn’t even my fault! The wiring was labeled wrong, and boom! Gone. Just through the wall. Like—whoosh!” You gestured dramatically. “And the guy didn’t even get mad! He just looked at me like, ‘Again?’ Like it was normal! I mean, do you know how often something has to happen for someone to say ‘again’ like that?”

You laughed at your own story, expecting the usual silence or maybe a smirk.

But Tech didn’t even glance away from his datapad. “Statistically, it would take three prior incidents to normalize an event to that degree of resignation.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“Assuming he’s of average emotional intelligence,” Tech continued, typing something, “and factoring in a baseline tolerance for property damage, he would need to experience approximately three similar accidents before responding without distress.”

You stared at him for a moment, a grin creeping onto your face. “That’s… actually really interesting.”

“I ran a simulation once on behavioral desensitization. It was… enlightening,” he added, finally sparing you a glance over his lenses.

“Tech,” you said, leaning in slightly, “do you actually listen when I ramble?”

He looked confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno… I talk a lot. Like, a lot a lot. You’re always so quiet.”

“I am processing,” he replied. “You provide a considerable amount of verbal data, but I do not find it unappealing.”

“…That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me talking too much.”

He tilted his head, brows slightly raised. “It is?”

You laughed, this time softer. “You’re kind of weird, Tech.”

“Correct.”

“But I like that.”

He hesitated for a beat, then reached into his tool belt and held out a tiny, modified comm unit. “I made this for you.”

You blinked. “What is it?”

“It’s a personal recorder. For your stories. In case I’m not around to listen… or if you wish to remember them later.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Tech… that’s the sweetest, nerdiest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He adjusted his goggles. “You are enthusiastic and loud. But I find the consistency of your presence… statistically comforting.”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning too hard.

“Wanna hear another story?” you asked.

“I’ve already adjusted the comm’s storage capacity for it.”

You didn’t know how to describe the warmth blooming in your chest—but you didn’t need to.

Tech already had a formula for it.

⸻

It started with the recorder.

Then came the noise-canceling earpieces—not for him, but for you. “In case you ever want silence but don’t want to stop talking,” he’d explained, eyes glued to a schematic, oblivious to how much your heart melted.

He began cataloguing your favorite snacks and replicating them with a portable food synthesizer. “I’ve programmed your preferred balance of salt and sweetness,” he said one night, handing you a makeshift granola bar that tasted weirdly perfect.

The best part? He never made a big deal about it. Just slipped things into your life like you’d always been part of his code.

One evening, after a mission that left the team bruised but alive, you found yourselves alone in the cockpit of the Marauder. The others were sleeping, recovering. You weren’t tired. You rarely were when Tech was nearby.

You sat cross-legged in the copilot’s seat, chewing absently on a snack bar, eyeing him as he fiddled with his datapad.

“Tech,” you said, drawing his attention with a sing-song tone.

“Hm?”

“You always listen to me talk about my stuff. But you never tell me about yours.”

He didn’t look up. “That is because my interests are largely theoretical and statistically uninteresting to the average person.”

You snorted. “Okay, first, I’m not average. And second—says who?”

He paused. “I… suppose I assumed.”

“Well, you assumed wrong. Come on, tell me something. Anything. What do you like, Tech?”

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I like many things. Theoretical physics, starship schematics, linguistic anomalies…”

You leaned in. “No, not like a list. Talk to me. Like I talk to you.”

He looked at you. Really looked. You’d never seen him nervous before. But this? This was vulnerable. And Tech didn’t do vulnerable. Not in the usual sense.

Still, after a moment, he gave a small nod.

“I find… gravitational lensing phenomena quite fascinating,” he began, almost shyly. “When a massive object distorts space-time, it bends light around it. It allows us to see stars that would otherwise be hidden. It’s a rare glimpse into the unreachable, a way to observe what we otherwise could not.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden spark in his voice.

“And—when you combine that with redshift patterns and the curvature metrics of distant galaxies—”

He was off.

Tech’s eyes lit up behind his goggles. His hands moved as he talked, describing invisible models in the air. The way he spoke was fast, clumsy, full of jargon, and absolutely beautiful. He was so excited. The same way you were when you told your stories.

You didn’t interrupt. You didn’t tease. You just smiled and let him go.

Eventually, his words slowed, and he caught himself, clearing his throat.

“I… apologize. I may have over-answered your question.”

“No,” you said softly. “You were perfect.”

His eyes met yours.

You reached over and touched his hand. He froze, then slowly turned his palm to hold yours.

“Tech,” you murmured, “when you talk like that, it makes me want to kiss you.”

He blinked. “Statistically, that is a highly favorable reaction.”

You grinned. “Tech.”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

He hesitated a beat. “Proceed”

And when your lips touched his, soft and warm and a little clumsy, he exhaled like it was the first time he’d let go of logic and just felt something.

Afterward, still holding your hand, he said, “You make even chaos… feel structured.”

And you decided right then that you were never going to stop talking. Because if you kept talking long enough, Tech would keep listening—and maybe, just maybe, he’d keep answering too.

[collophora]

Plan 99's anniversary rough concept

[eclec-tech]

Good. We need more Tech.

More Tech.

[lornaka]

If you ever need us, we'll be there.

[thelastd0mino]

this is my new obsession and y'all have to deal with it!! (if y'all want to see a character-specific post or just more of a certain character lmk and i'll do it! i am for the people.)

[battledroidwrites]

they’re rebel pilots together now ;—;

[juliberrylive]

i love tank force 99

[foxwithadarkside]

@techpheeweek I missed all the deadlines, the prompts didn't speak to me :(

And yet :D

(The words ‘Don't be a stranger to your own heart. Don't leave me dancing in the pale blue light’)

I used this. Alphonse Mucha is my love ^___^

@eobe @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe

[techsazalea]

bad batch & tweets that match them pt 2 ✌🏻

[mrsnaildood]

Beanpole Brothers

[skellymom]

Aww this is so sweet! Echo one gets me right in the heart.❤️

I saw your fic “What’s that smell” and thought it was absolutely beautiful! I was wondering what would be the rest of the batches reactions to the new smells. I can’t imagine what their ship would smell like and then having it change and maybe even be cleaner. You’re the best! Xx

Their ship would 100% smell like oil, sweat, blaster residue, old caf, dusty armor polish, and wet dog on a good day.

Here is what I believe the rest of the batches reactions are.

Crosshair

The first time he notices it, he’s practically scowling.

He hates things he can’t immediately explain, and suddenly the ship doesn’t smell like burnt wiring and recycled air anymore — it smells like…

something soft.

Something warm.

Something he can’t stop breathing in.

He’s so annoyed about it he follows you around for an entire day, sniffing the air like a pissed-off lothcat, trying to figure out if it’s you or if someone installed a karking air freshener.

When he finally realizes it’s you, he just stands there staring at you for a long second, lips pressed into a tight line.

Then he mutters:

“You smell… distracting.”

Like it’s a personal insult.

Will absolutely lean in closer than necessary just to breathe you in — but if you catch him, he’ll immediately go “Hmph” and pretend you’re the weird one.

Wrecker

Wrecker’s the first to flat-out say it.

He scoops you up into a bone-crushing hug one day, immediately sniffs, and then pulls back with wide, amazed eyes.

“Whoa! You smell amazing! Like… like sunshine! And pastries! And soap!”

He is obsessed after that. Every time you walk by, he inhales dramatically like a toddler discovering their favorite candy.

“Can we keep ya?” he jokes — but he means it. You’re like a walking comfort blanket for him.

The Marauder slowly starts smelling better too because Wrecker starts cleaning more — purely because he wants the nice smell to stick around.

Tech

Tech notices immediately, but being Tech, he processes it differently.

“Interesting,” he says aloud the first time you pass him. “The olfactory change is quite pleasant.”

Then he starts… researching it.

He runs calculations about human pheromones and attraction rates. He theorizes that your presence might lower the crew’s stress levels by up to 23%.

He doesn’t even realize he’s orbiting closer to you during missions until Wrecker points it out.

Embarrassed, he adjusts his goggles and mutters something about “optimal proximity for psychological benefits.”

Translation: You smell good and it’s making his brain short-circuit, help.

Echo

Echo notices it like a punch to the face because he’s so hyperaware of sensory input now.

The Marauder always smells like metal and grime — he’s used to it — but you?

You smell like rain hitting dry ground. Like something clean and alive and real.

It shakes him a little.

Reminds him of before — before the war, before everything.

He tries to be subtle about it, but you catch him lingering near you sometimes, jaw tight like he’s trying not to let himself want it.

One day you brush past him and he closes his eyes for half a second, just breathing you in.

He doesn’t say anything about it for a long time.

Until maybe you tease him — and he finally admits, voice low and rough:

“You make this whole ship feel… less like a graveyard.”

Which might be the most devastatingly sweet thing Echo could ever say.

[gorlicberd]

late night post but i was just thinking about tech and phee