“There’s too much to be done,” Padmé says, and looks back to meet the holo’s flickering gaze. “Our base on Ithor was compromised, and I can't take the time to vet a bodyguard—” “Then it’s a good thing,” Obi-Wan says with careful cheer, “that I found one for you.”

Once upon a time in Yiling, a rumor started about the Yiling Patriarch having started to collect a harem of beautiful young men from a variety of sects. (it was Nie Huaisang's fault) (to be fair, the porn didn't help)

Padmé hears the sharp, ragged gasp, and she’s already turning when Fives jerks up off the bed, on his feet in an instant. A fist lashes out, almost too quick to see, but Padmé catches it, twists, pulls, and when Fives staggers, he falls right into her with a cry. “Easy,” Padmé says, and catches him, holds him up as he gets his bearings. “You’re all right, I swear. You’re safe, Fives.”

Left with only three other crew mates, it’s a ready expectation that Sanji will start fawning all over Robin in his usual obnoxious way. However, that’s not what happens. Instead, looking wild around the eyes in a way only someone who knows him well would recognize, the cook doesn’t break stride until he’s firmly within Zoro’s orbit and can wrap both hands around his upper arm, clinging tight. “Hi, darling,” he chirps, his expression desperately conveying that Zoro needs to play along under pain of death. “Did you miss me?”