#lok bolin

Bolin is the ultimate "heart on his sleeve" romantic. His gestures are a mix of golden-retriever energy, classic old-school chivalry, and a touch of dramatic flair.

The "Pocket" Hold: Bolin loves holding hands, but he’ll often just tuck your hand into his pocket with his while you’re walking.

Pipe Flexing: Bolin definitely "flexes his pipes" (biceps) when you’re around, hoping you’ll notice and maybe give them a little squeeze for "good luck" before a match.

Sleep Cuddling: Bolin is a heavy sleeper and a total "koala." If you’re napping together, you’re not getting away; he’ll wrap his arms and legs around you and probably mumble something sweet in his sleep.

Forehead & Hair Kisses: Bolin's a big fan of the forehead kiss—it’s his go-to for when he’s feeling particularly soft or protective.

The "Street-Side" Swap: Bolin's religiously consistent about walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street to "protect" you from traffic.

Foodie Love: Since Bolin grew up hungry, sharing food is his highest honor. He will always offer you the last bite of his favorite snack, even if it’s a rare treat.

Bad Day Recovery Kit: If you’ve had a rough day, Bolin will show up with your favorite noodles, a warm blanket, and Pabu (to provide emergency snuggles).

Personal Bodyguard: Bolin takes his role as your protector very seriously but in a cute way—like insisting you take an umbrella because he saw one tiny cloud.

Love Notes & Doodles: Expect little notes from Bolin that are hidden in your bag or pockets. They usually have a very earnest "I love you!" and a slightly wonky drawing of a heart or Pabu.

Public Declarations: Bolin isn't afraid of a little PDA. He might randomly pick you up and spin you around in the middle of a crowded Republic City street just because he’s happy to be with you.

Movie Night Rituals: Bolin will insist on starting a new "mover" series together where he is "religiously" committed to never watching an episode without you.

The "First Date" Re-do: Every now and then, Bolin will show up at your door all dressed up (probably in his fancy Nuktuk premiere suit) to "take you out" as if it’s the very first time again.

You knew your period was coming the second you woke up with that dull, twisting ache in your stomach.

By the time afternoon rolled around, the cramps had sharpened, your back hurt, and every little thing felt irritating in a way that made no logical sense. So when Bolin bounced into the apartment carrying groceries and nearly sang your name, you just groaned and pulled the blanket tighter around yourself.

He stopped mid-step.

“Whoa,” he said, setting the bags down. “That sounded bad. Are you okay?”

You squinted at him from the couch. “Do I look okay?”

Bolin hurried over, concern replacing his usual grin in an instant. “No. Definitely no. What happened? Are you sick? Did you get hurt? Did someone do something? Because I can absolutely—”

“Bolin.”

He stopped.

“It’s just my period.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

A pause.

Then, cautiously, “Okay. That’s... the monthly thing.”

You stared at him.

He lifted a finger. “I know more than that. Probably.”

Despite the pain, a laugh slipped out of you. “That is not reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” he admitted.

You shifted, trying and failing to get comfortable. Bolin noticed immediately, his face softening.

“Hey,” he said, crouching by the couch, “what do you need?”

You let your head fall back against the cushion. “Something warm. Painkillers. Maybe tea.”

He nodded with sudden determination. “Done. I’m on it.”

The first time Bolin handled your period, it was chaos.

He returned with painkillers, tea that was definitely too sweet, a hot water bottle wrapped in three towels, two kinds of noodles, chocolate, dried fruit, and—somehow—a little stuffed platypus-bear.

You frowned at the toy. “What is that for?”

He held it out to you solemnly. “Emotional support.”

You stared at him for a second, then laughed hard enough to regret it immediately.

“Ow—okay, don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry! Sorry.” He looked genuinely distressed. “I’m still learning.”

That much was obvious.

But Bolin stayed with you the whole evening, adjusting the blanket when it slipped, handing you tea before you asked, and rubbing your back with clumsy but well-meaning circles whenever the cramps got especially bad.

That had been months ago.

Now, he was better at it than you were.

You came home one evening feeling off in the way you always did the day before it started—heavy, tired, annoyed at nothing. You barely got the door shut behind you before Bolin looked up from where he was sitting on the floor with Pabu in his lap.

He took one look at your face and said, “Your period’s about to start.”

You stopped in the middle of taking your shoes off. “Excuse me?”

Bolin’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“I just meant—uh—I noticed—”

“You noticed.”

He stood, carefully setting Pabu aside. “Please don’t be mad.”

You crossed your arms. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because maybe it’s weird that I can tell.”

You watched him squirm for another second before asking, “How can you tell?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You get quieter. And you have this look on your face like if one person says something stupid, you might throw them into Yue Bay.”

You considered that. “That’s fair.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Okay, good.”

Then his expression brightened. “Wait here.”

Before you could answer, he darted into the bathroom and came back with a small basket.

You blinked.

Inside were pads, painkillers, your favorite tea, a heating pad, ginger candies, dark chocolate, and the fuzzy socks you’d thought you’d lost weeks ago.

You looked up at him slowly. “Bolin.”

He suddenly seemed very interested in the wall behind you. “I made you a period kit.”

“You made me a period kit.”

“Yeah.” His voice turned sheepish. “You always seem miserable when it sneaks up on you, so I thought maybe if everything was already together, it’d make things easier.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

It was such a Bolin thing to do—sweet and practical and just earnest enough to make your chest ache in a completely different way.

“You are ridiculous,” you said softly.

His face fell. “Bad ridiculous?”

You reached for the basket, then for his wrist, tugging him closer. “No. Sweet ridiculous.”

His grin came back instantly. “Oh. Good. I like being that kind.”

You guided him down onto the couch beside you and leaned into his side. Almost automatically, his arm settled around your shoulders.

“I also,” he said carefully, “sort of know when it’s due now.”

You tilted your head up. “You what?”

He raised both hands. “Not in a creepy way. In a helpful way! You said once that you hated being caught off guard, so I started counting the days.”

You stared at him.

Then you laughed, softer this time.

“Bolin,” you said, “are you tracking my cycle?”

He winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds alarming.”

“It is a little alarming.”

“I can stop.”

You looked at the basket again. At the heating pad. The tea. The chocolate. The socks.

Then you shook your head. “No. Don’t stop.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

He beamed, then reached for your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Good,” he said. “Because I was thinking I could give you a heads-up next time. Like, ‘Hey, y/n, your body may betray you within the next forty-eight hours, so I brought snacks.’”

You laughed and leaned against him again, closing your eyes.

“That is such a weirdly specific act of love.”

Bolin went quiet for a second.

Then, softer than before, he said, “Well... yeah. I love you. So I want to help.”

The words settled warm in your chest, making something in you unclench.

You turned your face into his shoulder, smiling despite the ache in your stomach. “Then help by staying right here.”

Bolin pressed a kiss to the top of your head without hesitation. “Easy. That’s the part I’m best at.”

And when the cramps came in full later that night, he was ready before you even had to ask.