Snips and Skyguy One Shots

i turn my issues into a fic again ✌️

i have become SICK which sucks for me, but is super ironic bc i just read anxiety_banana's sick fic last night, and so now i'm writing this for her hehee enjoy anakin being the ultimate good dad™ here

"Blow," Anakin instructed, holding a tissue to Ahsoka's nose.

She did as she was told, marveling at how calmly her master crumpled the soft paper into a ball and tossed it into the overflowing trash can beside her bed, not even an ounce of disgust showing on his face.

"How's your appetite?" he asked, picking the steaming soup he had just ladeled into a bowl up off of her night stand. "It'll help your throat," he sang, playfully lifting it up with the force to slide it towards her.

She giggled, sniffling loudly (which warranted another tissue against her nose from her master) before saying,

"You know," she blew hard, "that'll leave burn marks all over if you drop it on me."

"I would never," Anakin scoffed, dropping the tissue into the garbage. "But, in all seriousness, you've got to get something in your stomach."

Ahsoka groaned, reluctantly sitting herself up, arms still tucked beneath her covers.

Anakin carefully levitated the soup back over to the nightstand, lifting her pillow up from beneath her and laying it against her headboard, not without fluffing it first.

Ahsoka removed her arms from the blankets.

She shivered.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. On second thought—

"Here," he said with a soft smile, taking hold of the blankets and nudging her arms back under. He scooted closer, leaning against the headboard as well now, carefully placing the soup bowl in his lap. "Let me."

A warm arm was wrapped around her shoulder the moment she laid her head down on his. Hot broth soothed her throat as she leaned forward to swallow the spoonful of soup Anakin had lifted to her lips (she'd nearly rolled her eyes when he blew on it first before passing it over to her).

"Any good?" he asked.

She nodded, sniffling again, this time letting out a long series of coughs as well, Anakin rubbing her back through it all. She groaned, turning her face into his neck.

"I'm sorry you don't feel well," he sighed, running his hand gently up and down her pale right lek, tucking his face between her montrals. "I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat if I could."

"It's," sniff, "okay." She let out a long sigh. "And we might end up switching places anyway if you keep this close the whole time."

Anakin nearly laughed at that.

"I'm not going anywhere until you're better, okay?"

She nodded. She'd already expected as much.

"I know, Master."

She pulled back, and he reached down for the soup again, lifting the whole bowl up this time.

"It's just broth. Drink," he said, arms around both of her shoulders now as he held it inches from her lips, chapped from the amount of mouth-breathing she'd had to do with her nose clogged.

She sipped slowly, pulling away every few swallows to breathe. Anakin seemed satisfied once she'd consumed about half of the bowl, placing it back on the nightstand with a light clank.

"Did you finish your water?" he asked, rubbing up and down her arm when she pillowed herself against him once again.

"Ugh," she grunted, shaking her head. "Please, no. I got enough liquids with the soup, right?"

Anakin looked down at the discarded water bottle on the ground by the foot of her bed, where she'd clearly chucked it as soon as he'd left the room to make her soup. He let out a sigh, his affection for his padawan winning over his better judgment.

"Yeah, I think so. As long as you promise to finish it by the end of the day."

"Deal."

The tiny room was silent for the next few minutes, save for Ahsoka's constant sniffles and occasional coughs.

"Want me to read to you?" Anakin asked, nodding toward the book next to her pillow. He felt her shake her head.

"No thank you."

"Think you're able to sleep?" She could hear the tinge of hope in his voice this time—she'd done plenty of resting in the past day and a half that she'd been stuck in bed, but sleeping didn't come very easily when her body's schedule for that particular action was as warped as it was.

"I'm tired," she said, coughing quietly, "but I don't think I can fall asleep until it's dark out."

"That's okay," Anakin replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead, partially to check her temperature (which was still far too high for his liking), and partially... for something else.

"Keep me company?" she asked softly as he pulled back, hand returning to its spot on her lekku, tracing her stripes comfortingly. She let out a quiet sigh.

Anakin smiled. They still had a few hours until nightfall, but he would rather spend that time in silence with his sick padawan, than in conversation with anyone else.

"Of course."

i am currently blowing my nose into toilet paper.

(bad batch ep 11 spoilers below kinda)

happy howzer-and/or-hera's-mom-better-not die-eve!!