Sure

1. How did I never come across this fic (until now) 😭?!

2. Would love to see a part 2!!

Hmmm that last episode has inspired me to make a part 2 to this one shot I did a year ago with Echo 👀

Interesting

Woah, that caught me off guard 😂

Echo *trying to make a point*: I'm definitely a morning person.

Tech *glances at the time*: It's almost time for this planets sunset.

Echo *rolls his eyes*: I'm a person

Crosshair *muttering*: Debatable.

I love this edit!

“hey, i miss you too.”

“thanks, i like being friends with you too.”

this song makes me really happy, & i’m positive s5 will have me in a feels trip anyway, so i decided to make this really quick! also i just love them lmao.

I also rewatched the show recently 🥺

I was more emotional with the ending this time around ; more than when they originally aired.

I’m excited and nervous for the upcoming season !

Finished my TBB rewatch and I feel-

Wet - Tech first kiss

Title: Wet Summary: Tech doesn’t want to leave the planet Navya lives on, knowing they won’t ever go back there unless there is an incentive. So, for once, Tech follows his heart – after a little nudge from Echo, of course. CW: None! Tags (if I ever upload to Ao3): fluff, romance, Tech x female OC, no experience Tech, cause I mean do clones have experience??, first kiss, kiss in the rain

Echo sat down with a grunt before leaning back casually. It was silent in the Marauder now, unlike a minute ago when, for the first time in everyone's lives, Tech had argued with Hunter.

Tech was calm, collected, and would usually follow orders when given. If not, he would have a proper, calm, explanation for why an order was not logical, and Hunter would agree.

This time, Tech had no logical explanation. He had thrown some big words out in a painfully obvious attempt to sound like he had a logical explanation, but Hunter hadn’t bought it.

“That was intense,” Echo commented, earning nothing more but a ‘hm’ from Tech, occupied with data on his data pad.

Or, he looked like he was, but Echo could see him just scrolling mindlessly, eyes not taking in any information.

Echo thoughtfully hummed, a knowing smirk appearing on his lips.   

It was not like it had been a proper argument, really. Hunter had seen through Tech the second they had met with the locals. And Hunter had seen through Tech now too. What most likely had bothered Hunter was that it was getting in the way of their ability to complete their job. Their credits were running out, and they would have to refuel the Marauder soon, not to mention eat.

“So…” Echo hummed, wondering what approach to take. Hunter had taken the ‘annoyed’ approach. Wrecker was clueless. Omega too. So it was up to Echo to sort this out now. “Since when does a little rain stop a skilled pilot as yourself?”

Momentarily, all one could hear in the cockpit was the loud, consistent white noise of rain bashing against the hull. ‘A little’ rain was an understatement. It was quite literally pouring down out there, as if someone had opened a water balloon that let out endless supplies of consistent water. It forced one to squint your eyes and breathe through your mouth.

It was bad.

Normal, apparently, to the locals, who had warned them – but the warning had been more to make sure they dressed Omega in warm clothes, not to warn them that they couldn’t take off.

One could fly through rain, even this rain.

“As I mentioned, it would impede the engines’ ability to-“

“Yes,” Echo interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “so you said. Repeatedly.” Echo smirked when Tech looked away from his data pad to offer a stern look to Echo. “You might have been able to fool Wrecker, and you know… I do think Hunter is a little conflicted on whether you were truthful or not. But me? I’ve worked on those engines just as much as you. They can manage. And you can fly through it.”

Tech remained quiet. But his eyes also remained glued on Echo.

No words were said, but Echo still mellowed down. “Why don’t you just go to her.”

“No. I mean…” Tech cleared his throat and finally looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” Echo leaned forward, trying to catch Tech’s gaze but failing. “Tech. Maybe you’re not even sure of why you’re lying, or whether you are lying. But I am sure about one thing. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it because you don’t want to leave.”

“It would be difficult to navigate through the rain,” Tech simply stated.

“Difficult but not impossible,” Echo said with a knowing smile.

“Something… else might be impossible.”

So he was aware.

Curious.

“I am not…” Tech turned to glance at his friend and brother, knee nervously jumping up and down, “naturally inclined toward showing feelings.”

“You have them though.” Echo leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whatever is making you lie to Hunter, even yourself… access it. Decrypt it. And listen to the code.”

Nervously, Tech pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, leg continuing its nervous movement…

Then it clicked.

He stood, giving Echo one last glance that looked mildly grateful, before leaving the cockpit.

Echo smiled.

…

“But it’s raining!” Hunter had closed himself off from the others to try and calm down. He was not angry, nor had this been a proper fight between him and Tech. It was just that he was a little oversensitive, and when he himself had raised his voice, he had accidentally triggered himself.

Sharpening his knife in a quiet, dark room was his way to calm down.

But the closed door didn’t shut out all sounds from the rest of the ship. Especially not to someone with heightened senses. And he easily heard the faint beeping of the ramp being lowered to the outside along with multiple questions thrown around in confusion.

Standing, he left his dark compartment to investigate, a protective mode on.

“Where are you going?” Hunter asked with wide eyes.

With the ramp opened, the bad weather outside was obvious: darkness that made it difficult to see past your own feet, and rain slashing down on you if you left the comfort of a ceiling above your head.

He had to raise his voice again just to be heard over the noise of rain, but his need to protect his squad overpowered his sensitive sense.  

Everyone watched as Tech lifted the hood of a cloak that would do nothing in this weather over his head before saying: “The impossible.”

“What?” Wrecker and Omega watched with bated breaths whether this would become another fight. But then Hunter mellowed down. “Tech, at least tell me where you’re off to.”

Tech did nothing more but stare at his leader. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Tech.” Tech paused one last time at his leader’s call. “Say hello to Navya for us.”

Tech blushed furiously, earning a smirk from Hunter before he granted the man an approving nod…

…

The darkness this storm brought with it did nothing to stop Tech from getting to Navya’s house. He had memorized the way the second he had first laid eyes on Navya, hoping that nothing would ever happen to this little village for him to have to use that knowledge and protect her.

He knocked on the door. Lights were on inside, and more turned on as Navya made her way to the door. Opening it, she already looked surprised as no one was out and about in this weather, and definitely not to go visit her. She sold technology, either in parts or made whole, and no one was quite interested in that when it rained.

“Tech?” she asked, lifting a lantern to get a better look. Her eyes widened, mouth forming an ‘o’ in surprise. “Tech! What are you doing?”

Too shocked to move, Navya stayed in the doorway. That was alright. Tech had no intention to go inside. That felt… improper.

But he couldn’t leave this planet without at least…

Admitting his own improper thoughts.

“Navya.” Water flowed down his face, seeping through the cloak and into his armour. Despite his enhanced DNA, he would feel a little off the next day from letting his body temperature fall. It was worth it though. “We are leaving.”

She blinked in confusion. “I know that, Tech. We said goodbye.”

“No, we didn’t.” Tech was well aware that that would confuse her even more. They had, in fact, shared a very proper goodbye. He had even waved at her from across the room.

She had smiled… She had stopped herself from walking over. And her smile had wavered and disappeared upon the realization that they wouldn’t meet ever again.

It had been a goodbye.

But not one he wanted.

“Not… Not as I would have liked it.” Tech cleared his throat.

“Tech, you should come inside-“

“I will be fine. This won’t take long.” He cleared his throat again. It wouldn’t take long if he could just get the words to come out. “I wanted to say goodbye.” Dammit. “But not a goodbye.”

Oh he wasn’t sounding very smart right about now. Maybe decrypting those pesky feelings he felt had made him download a virus.

But he wasn’t a droid. He didn’t even have parts on him.

He was human, and deep down past the intellect and awkwardness that came with being hyper aware of everything but emotions, especially his own, he knew that it wasn’t a virus, just a nervous stutter as his heart fluttered in the presence of her.

“I wanted it to be a goodbye lacking the outcome of us never seeing each other again.”

She stared in shock. “That would require the variable of your team coming back. That variable doesn’t exist.”

“Not without any other jobs bringing us here,” Tech agreed with a nod.

“This is such a remote place, you won’t come back.” Her gaze fell to the floor in pain.

“Wrong.” Tech adjusted his goggles awkwardly. “I can be the variable impacting the equation so the solution becomes different.”

Blinking in surprise, Navya stared at him once more. “How?”

“Like this.” Tech stepped forward once. “May I have permission to kiss you?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. But it was a good surprise. She had wanted to ask that question herself for a few days now. “Yes. You have permission.”

It momentarily looked as though Tech hadn’t thought he would get the permission, pausing to let his gaze flicker down to her lips questioningly. But then he leaned down, water trickling from his hood down onto her face as he pecked her lips once.  

That was it.

Just a quick peck. He’d seen people do that, but he had never studied it further. To do so would be creepy, and the data pads along with any information clones were given about humanity held very little info on physical contact.

She, on the other hand, had lived a full life. So when Tech stepped away again, out into the rain, she wasn’t satisfied with just the one little peck. She followed him out into the rain, immediately getting drenched, reached her hands up to his cheeks and pulled him in for a proper kiss. A deep one.

And two kisses.

And three.

It ended with a fourth, gentle, kiss to the side of his lips. At some point he had felt his body react naturally and had kissed her back, but he hadn’t been aware of his hands finding their way to her hips.

Yet, there they were.

And he smiled down at her, face red and heartbeat no longer stuttering, but beating with a radiating warmth that made him forget it was raining.

…

“So?” Echo sat back down in the cockpit, staring at Tech as he prepared the ship for take-off.

It was still pouring down outside, but Tech had finally come to his senses that the ship could handle the weather, and that his flying capabilities were good enough to navigate through the storm with ease.

The others sat down in the cockpit too, Hunter helping Omega strap in.

Just in case.

“So, what?” Tech asked innocently.

“How was Navya?” Echo asked.

Wrecker leaned forwards, an eager grin on his lips. Hunter and Echo had explained to Wrecker, and Omega in less detail, what was going on with Tech.

Obviously, now that Wrecker knew, he needed the full details.

Tech glanced to Echo, pausing his actions momentarily. Then he turned to catch even Hunter waiting impatiently, though the leader pretended he wasn’t doing so by pulling out his knife to play with.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a groan, Wrecker grabbed a hold of Tech’s chair and shook it impatiently. “Just tell us! Did you kiss her?”

Omega giggled at Tech looking rather rattled.

“I do believe that is none of your business,” Tech stated.

“That wasn’t a no,” Echo teased.

“We had a discussion that I should…” Tech glanced back at Hunter, who had stopped playing with his knife to listen in. He caught Tech’s gaze and tilted his head curiously. “That I should visit. From time to time.”

Hunter smiled and nodded his head in understanding.

“So how was it!?” Wrecker shouted. “The kiss!?”

Tech rolled his eyes. “It was…” He thought about it for a bit. “Wet.”

“Too much information,” Echo groaned.

“Why was it wet?” Omega asked innocently.

“Because-“ Tech went to reply, well aware that this was innocent enough to explain to a child. It had just been a kiss or two or three in the rain.

The others, however, had other things on their mind.

Very improper things.

They shouted out a quick ‘NO!’ to Tech, who looked around in confusion together with Omega.

credit I don't own tbb I only own Navya's character pink line divider by fic-dumpster

I'm excited and scared

Mild spoilers about TBB S2 from an interview with J. Corbett

°•°•°•°•°•°

Don't get me wrong, I love angst, but I don't need Echo and The Batch fighting all the time! That's too much stress.

Although I would love to see Echo talk more about his life in 501st and I think him confiding in Rex about their past could be really good. I feel like the conflict between the rest of CF 99 and Echo being a reg is something that I want to see more of. And something that needs to be explored more.

But the idea of Echo falling out with the rest of them stresses me out.😭

#I can fix him, unless-

Me if any member of the bad batch dies in season 2:

This was so beautiful 🥹🥹💕💕

Fondness

Pairings: Clone Trooper Veteran Tai (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: Tai has PTSD flashbacks, mutual pining, awkward tension

Notes: I think this chapter will be a much better one just because I finally watched TCW. Shout out to Rex, who got way more mentions than I had planned but that's okay because I love him.

In all his years, after all the shit he's been through, he never imagined anything quite like this. He never imagined kindness quite like this. But then again, Tai had never met anyone like you before either. This realization doesn't keep his head from spinning, though, because now he's in your space, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the shithole you and a hundred other people call home. White walls stained beige with age, a floor that creaks every time you shift or step, windows that allow a disheartening view of the neighboring building and little else. It's crummy and probably falling apart, but it's better than anything he's had in at least seven years. He's not complaining.

"Sorry for the mess," you say a little shyly as you start bustling about the place, picking up trash and discarded clothes and wholly avoiding his eyes. "I don't really have people over."

Better than the dumpster I've been sleeping under, he wants to say. But that would be rude. And he knows you're trying to be polite, trying to put your best foot forward, and he appreciates it. And you. Definitely you.

"I don't have an extra room or a bed or anything, but I have a couch. And lots of blankets and pillows." You're going through a cupboard in the hall now. "I can turn the air on. Or the heat. I dunno what you prefer, but we can make it work." And something grabs Tai by the heart and refuses to let go because there's that 'we' again. The one that makes his chest feel tight. "Whatever you need to be comfortable."

He blinks and you're standing in front of him, eyes big and wide and shining in the sliver of light coming over his shoulder from the window. The two of you are caught for a moment in the gentle electricity humming between you. It's cautious and unsure, a little reserved and a little exciting, like you shouldn't be opening up your home to him and he shouldn't have accepted, like he shouldn't even be here. It registers vaguely in the back of the head that he's probably right. You don't know him, not really, and he doesn't really know you, no matter how much he pretends he does. And he's old enough now to be finding gray in his beard and at his temples. So what the hell is he doing here, what is he doing with you, the sweetest thing he's ever encountered? He feels like a creep.

But all of that passes when you smile. It wipes his mind clean. You turn to drop the sheets on the arm of the sofa, start unfolding them and throwing them over the cushions.

"I can-"

"I got it," you counter before he can even stop you. "I don't mind. You can make yourself at home, Tai. Get a drink, take a shower, whatever you want."

It takes him more breaths than he'd care to admit for his brain to catch up to his ears and his heart. He's so kriffing nervous here, taking up precious space in your home, tracking the grime of the city into your floor, and he knows that this is a gift that can be taken back. He's earned this privilege and he can lose it in a blink. So he decides to let you do this for him, just this once, if only to give himself some space and time to clear his head.

The bathroom is fucking tiny. The walls are crowding in on him before he even closes the door. The mirror is dirty with water spatters and steam streaks, the counter a little dusty in the corners, but you're everywhere in here - from the vase and fake flowers to the spread of cutely labeled products and the carpeted mat under his feet. Which reminds him to take his shoes off, which then prompts him to shuck off his armor and let his body breathe.

The man staring back at him in the mirror is both familiar and a stranger. He remembers that jawline looking sharper at one point, his skin smoother and firmer, but he also remembers the day he got the scar on his chin. He remembers the last day he saw Rex, remembers a string of images that make him want to pluck his eyes out just to quiet the way padawan blood screamed at him from the ground, remembers the day the Empire replaced him with a faceless, unfeeling Stormtrooper, remembers the first time he held out his helmet and begged for scraps. And before he even realizes it, he's stepping into the shower and basking in the shivering cold of the water. Maybe it'll wash away the black marks on his soul he's earned over the years. He can hope, at least.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

Tai feels more levelheaded when he gets out of the shower. He doesn't look at the mirror. He does, however, notice a slip of paper half stuck to the floor with the residual steam and his heart does a weird little flip when he reads it. There is indeed a stack of clothes and a crate for his armor just outside the door. He can tell with just a look that the sweatpants won't fit him, but the shirt, a striped and faded mess of cotton wearing thin at the bottom seam, fits well enough and he makes a point of not noticing how it smells like you.

The sofa is made up like a bed in a palace, or as close as you can manage. The sheets are threadbare but soft, lightly scented with citrus, and he swears there's half a dozen pillows piled up in the corner. You've left out a glass of water and lit a candle, too.

He doesn't let himself cry until he double checks that you are in your room with your door closed. How has he deserved this? He's fallen so far. He was once a proud soldier of the Republic. Now the Republic is dead and so are most of his brothers. He doesn't even know if there are any left. What would they say if they could see him now, living on the streets of an empty, soulless planet, huddled in some civilian's apartment like a rat? It's embarrassing, shameful. Rex would have his head for this, surely- except... Except he knows that's not quite true. He knows that Rex, soldier though he was, would never have judged him. Rex would have tried to help him.

He looks down the hallway where a sliver of light shines out from beneath your door and he almost dares to smile. Rex would have liked you, he thinks.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

One night turns into two. You're not used to having anyone in your space quite like this, certainly not a man, so it's awkward. You keep having to remind yourself not to leave your more feminine products out in the open where it might startle him. And even though you have no reason to believe Tai would ever be in your room, you make sure to hide your personal effects in there too. Just in case. Best not to give him the wrong idea. But it's okay, it works, the two of you.

Two nights turn into a week. Tai's efforts to leave the following morning are growing weaker every day and your requests for him to stay become more and more persuasive. You know it would be best for him to go, more logical, safer even. But you feel safer having him around.

And maybe, just maybe some selfish part of you wishes he would never have to leave. You choose not to delve into the reason why.

A week becomes a month and you come home from work one evening to find Tai passed out on the sofa, snoring away as usual. It sucks that your schedules are so opposite with him heading off to work right after you get home, but sometimes it's not so bad. Sometimes you come home early and you get to see him like this. The stress and age and trauma doesn't weigh so heavily on his face when he sleeps.

You're grabbing a drink when you notice the pile of credits dropped onto the kitchen counter. It's not very much, but it's also not yours. Your eyes flicker in Tai's direction. Is this his monthly pay? Being a janitor in a dankhole like this place ought to pay more. He also needs a better place to put his money than on the counter, he'll end up losing some that way. You briefly wonder if he needs a wallet and if maybe you should get him one before you snap yourself out of it.

He's a grown man, you tell yourself, he can get his own damn wallet. You're not his mother. And if you'd been caught saying that out loud you might have sounded furious, but the only anger you can feel is directed solely at yourself. Because you're letting yourself fall too deep and too fast for a man who is still a stranger in many ways.

You shake your head and take your things with you into your room, careful to close the door as quietly as you can manage. You don't want to wake him, but you also don't want to face him. Not now. Not with the too many thoughts buzzing around in your brain. Not when you're realizing just how much you think you might love him.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

" 's for you, y'know," he gruffs the following afternoon.

You look up from the stove, over your shoulder, and frown. "Huh?"

He nods his head at the pile of credits that still haven't moved. "For rent."

The galaxy spins around you for a moment. He took money out of his probably terribly paying job to help you with rent? Seriously?

You stumble over your own mouth while your brain plays catch up. "Tai... You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs and doesn't look at you. "Figured I used enough hot water to warrant a bill."

His smile is faint, but you can still see the outline of it. You wish he'd smile more. He looks so pretty when he smiles. And then you wonder what he thinks of your smile, if he even thinks of it at all. Does Tai think of you the way you think of him?

"Saw an apartment opening up downtown." His voice slices through your thoughts violently enough to completely shatter them. Your entire body feels like it's been dunked in ice water. "Thought I might have a look."

He wants to leave? Ice cold panic grips you by the base of your spine as you start cataloging through the last few days, trying to find any moment, any second glance that he could have interpreted wrongly. Because why else would he want to leave when you've tried so hard to make your home welcoming to him?

"Don't want to overstay my welcome."

And your anxiety calms a hair. Okay, so maybe you were jumping to conclusions for a second there.

You rest your hip against the cupboard. "You could never. You haven't." You glance back at your food as if it'll protect you from your own heart. "You can... You can stay here as long as you want to, Tai. Or as short as you want. Whatever you want. But you'll never wear out your welcome."

Well, that's about as close to a confession as you can safely get. Not that you were trying to confess anything, not that you have anything to confess. Even though you know that's a kriffing lie.

The kitchen goes stale with your shared silence. The wheels in Tai's head are turning so fiercely that you can hear them working. You're sure he can hear your heartbeat by now. Thank the Maker he can't hear your thoughts. And then-

"There's a bar by the market. I think it's called Spice. Have you ever been?"

You blink through your confusion. "I don't think so."

You blink again and suddenly Tai is standing, coming around to your side of the kitchen until he's all you can see. There's that blaster shot right through your chest again because he's closer now than he's been the past month. He smells faintly like your shampoo and his own natural musk and dank farrik, that's just not fair.

"Come with me tonight? Do you have work?"

"No. Yes. I mean-." You're so breathless, you can't get your words out in the right order. You laugh and have to turn your head to avoid the intensity of his gaze in order to focus. "I mean, no, I don't have work, yes, I'd love to go with you."

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

It's strange to be handing over credits in exchange for liquor. The GAR never paid their troopers and neither did the Empire, so the only alcohol he ever got his hands on was the free crap 79's handed out. Not that this place offers anything better, but this time he can actually pay for it with credits he's earned himself. And he can buy some for you, too.

The speakers are playing some upbeat, young person tune he's never heard before and the lights are flashing 50 different shades of neon across your face. It hurts his eyes a little and it's another reminder that he's not the young clone he once was and this isn't 79's. He's not on Coruscant anymore, Fives isn't chatting up some attractive civvy just around the corner, Jesse and Tup aren't hurling their guts out in the bathroom, Rex isn't nursing a drink in a corner booth. It's just him. In a dive bar on Daiyu. He's a janitor. He's homeless. And you're here with him, brightening up the space around you with just a smile and that tipsy twinkle in your eyes. It hurts, but it's manageable. Entirely because of you.

You down your third drink of the night with a giggle and a burp, turning on your bar stool so you're facing him properly with your knees splayed. They frame his legs just right. Tai pretends this one simple movement doesn't light a raging fire in the pit of his stomach. He tells himself it's the alcohol sending heat through his veins. Definitely not because you're fluttering your eyelashes at him. Because he's not the young man he used to be. He's a dirty old man. He's lucky just to be allowed to bask in your presence. He's lucky you haven't figured out he has it bad for you and that you haven't kicked him out as a result. You're just drunk, he tells himself. He's drunk too. That's all it is.

That's all it is until it's suddenly so much more. "Come on!" you exclaim with a smile that could hang the stars in the sky. You're tugging him out onto the dance floor, you're holding his hands, you're kriffing touching him like it's the most normal thing you could be doing. And Maker, he'd go anywhere you asked, do anything you wanted if you looked at him like that. "Dance with me!" you shout over the music, shuffling yourself even closer to make sure he can hear you.

He's shaking his head like an idiot, arms withdrawn and poised mid-air. "No, I can't-"

"Dance with me, Tai." You look up at him through your lashes and smile a smile he doesn't think he's ever seen on you. "I want to dance with you."

He swallows. Hard. "You're drunk."

"So?"

"So." Quick, trooper, think of something! "You wouldn't be asking me if you were sober."

"That's just 'cause I'm shy," you laugh and your hand runs up his arm to his shoulder. A shudder runs through him at your touch. "I wouldn't ask you if I was sober, but I'd still want to. So dance with me."

Your hand presses against his cheek right where his scruff is growing in and his eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments. He's not at 79's, he's not young anymore, but for this one moment he can pretend that doesn't matter. He can pretend that this night is everything he wants it to be. So he takes you in his arms like he's the confident young trooper he was so many years ago and he dances with you to music he's never heard before. And he lets himself love you, even if just for the night.

YES THE CHANCLA 🔥

There was a very long and specific train of thought that led to this, but I’m gonna save time for all of us and say it was a fever dream.