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Shota - Blog Posts
"Needles & Nonsense"
Summary: Reader’s stubbornness kicks back in, and the adults are not having it
The hospital room was too white.
The walls. The sheets. The buzzing light. It all made your skin crawl. Even worse was the IV line in your arm—a clear tube taped down to your skin like some parasite, slowly dripping fluids into your veins like you were a broken plant.
You glared at it like it had personally insulted you.
You had been stable for two days. That’s what they said. “Stable,” whatever that meant. You still felt like garbage. You couldn’t walk more than five feet without your knees giving out. But that was beside the point.
The point was the IV.
Disgusting. Cold. Invasive. You hated how it felt inside your arm, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Every few hours a nurse would come by and adjust the bag, and you had to just sit there like a helpless child. It made your skin crawl. You weren’t even scared of needles, not really—it was the being plugged in part that made your chest tight.
And honestly?
You were done.
You looked toward the door. No nurses. No heroes. The hallway was quiet. Probably lunchtime.
You glanced down at your arm.
“This is a terrible idea,” you muttered under your breath.
Then you yanked the IV out.
It came free with a squelch and a tiny spurt of blood, and you slapped your hand over it with a hiss. “Ow, ow, ow—grossgrossgross—”
A few drops of saline hit the sheets as the IV line swung freely like a limp vine. You shoved it aside like it was cursed, pressing a tissue to your bleeding arm.
You felt instantly better.
But the second you relaxed, the door opened.
“…What the hell are you doing?” Aizawa’s voice cut through the air like a whip.
You flinched.
“I was—uh,” you started, hiding the bloody tissue behind your back. “Nothing?”
He strode over in three long steps, eyes scanning the scene. The IV was dangling. The bandage was slipping. Your arm was still dripping faintly.
“You pulled it out?!” he barked.
You winced. “It felt gross, okay?! I’m not a science experiment—!”
“You’re a hospital patient,” Aizawa snapped, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it to your arm. “This is here to keep you alive. You don’t get to decide to sabotage your care because it’s ‘gross.’”
“I didn’t sabotage anything!” you protested. “I’m just—ugh—it’s my body, let me have some say!”
“You lost that say when you let your body fall apart,” he shot back.
You went quiet.
Aizawa immediately regretted his words. His eyes softened, and his voice dropped. “…I didn’t mean it like that.”
But the silence between you stretched like a cracked window.
“I just…” you said after a while, voice small. “It made me feel like I wasn’t even in control anymore. Like everyone’s poking me and watching me and I’m not even—me anymore.”
Aizawa let out a slow breath. “Okay. Okay. I get it.”
You blinked. “You do?”
“I do,” he nodded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this is still serious. You need those fluids.”
“…What if I drink more instead?” you offered weakly. “Like, a million electrolytes. And juice. And water. I’ll turn into a human Capri Sun.”
Aizawa gave you the driest look known to man.
“I’m being reasonable,” you added.
“You ripped a needle out of your arm.”
“...Emotionally reasonable, then.”
Before he could reply, the door burst open.
Midnight stormed in, Recovery Girl behind her.
“What happened? The monitor started freaking out—oh my god, what did you do?!” Midnight gasped.
“She pulled out her IV,” Aizawa said, tone flat.
Recovery Girl looked like she might combust on the spot. “You what?!”
“It felt gross!” you shouted, holding your arm like a wounded kitten.
Midnight clutched her head. “You’ve been in this hospital for two days and already started acting like an escaped gremlin.”
You huffed. “I wasn’t escaping. I was... asserting autonomy.”
Aizawa held up the bloody cloth. “With blood loss.”
Recovery Girl marched over and sat you up straighter with surprising strength. “If you do that again, I will have someone sit on you. Understood?”
“...Kinky,” you mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Mmhm.”
Midnight crossed her arms. “Do you hate the needle part or the ‘hooked up to something’ part?”
“…Both,” you admitted. “But mostly the hooked up part. It’s like I’m a USB stick.”
Recovery Girl pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. We’ll switch you to oral hydration and supplements if your blood pressure stabilizes over the next 12 hours. One more dip and you’re getting a double IV.”
You shivered. “Fine. Deal. Oral hydration or death.”
Midnight raised an eyebrow. “Dramatic much?”
“You’re literally talking to someone who steam-bleeds and passed out running down a hallway,” you said, deadpan. “Dramatic is my brand.”
Aizawa exhaled. “I’m too tired for this.”
“I’m tired, you’re just tired of me,” you teased.
He didn’t even crack a smile.
Midnight walked over and ruffled your hair. “Let’s just try to keep the holes in your arm where they belong, yeah?”
You nodded. “No promises.”
“Reader.”
“Okay, okay—I’ll be good. Kind of. Mostly. I’ll aim for like... 70%.”
Midnight looked at Aizawa. “That’s the best we’re gonna get.”
Aizawa just rubbed his temples again.
“Head Trauma? Never Heard of Her”
Featuring: You (bleeding, unbothered), Aizawa (perpetually tired), Midnight (living for the drama), and Present Mic (too loud for this).
---
Scene: Back Alley Behind a Fight – 6:45 PM
The battle is over. Villains: tied up. Civilians: safe. Heroes: dusting themselves off.
That’s when Aizawa freezes, squints into the distance, and mutters—
Aizawa: “Is that… blood?”
Midnight: “Where?”
Present Mic: “WHERE?!” echoing like a fire truck
They turn the corner and find you—a girl with a split-open forehead, a suspiciously calm smile, and a half-eaten granola bar.
Sitting on the curb. Bleeding. A lot. Like, A Lot a lot.
---
You: casually “Hey guys. Don’t mind me. Just leaking a bit.”
Aizawa: blinking slowly “You're actively hemorrhaging.”
You: “Yeah, it’s kind of a vibe. Adds mystery.”
Midnight: already digging for her first-aid kit “Sweetie, how are you even conscious?!”
You: “Adrenaline and vibes.”
---
Present Mic: “DID YOU GET ATTACKED?!”
You: cringing “Volume, my guy. I already hear ocean sounds and the voice of God.”
Aizawa: “You need a hospital.”
You: “Eh. Maybe. Or maybe this is my villain origin story.”
Midnight: “You’re too chill for a villain. You’d get distracted mid-monologue.”
You: “Correct. I’d stop to compliment someone’s shoes.”
---
Aizawa: “What happened?”
You: “Long story short, I tripped chasing a cat. Into a dumpster. Then a pipe fell on my head. The cat is fine though.”
Present Mic: “SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND A DUMPSTER CAT.”
You: offended “He was majestic.”
---
Midnight: “You are bleeding like a faucet and still defending the cat?”
You: “His name is Garbage Prince and I’d die for him.”
Aizawa: already dialing an ambulance “You just might.”
---
Scene: Waiting for the ambulance
You: “Do I get a cool scar? Like one that makes people think I’ve seen things?”
Present Mic: “Only if you survive!”
You: thumbs up, slightly swaying “Neat.”
Midnight: “I want whatever mental stability cocktail you’re on.”
You: “It’s called ‘delusion and snacks.’”
---
Scene: Ambulance arrives
Paramedic: “What happened?!”
You: “Gravity and poor decision-making.”
Aizawa: “Put her on full watch. She named the blood trail on the way here.”
You: “His name is Kevin.”
---
To Be Continued…?
Headcannons about Aizawa's sugar baby
MDNI! 18+ content towards the end! You will be blocked!
Any time he takes you somewhere, you are forbidden from touching the radio. It stays on one station, even when commercials play. Any guesses as to what that station is? If you guessed the alt rock station, you're right. Shota listens to dad rock.
Shota will buy you anything you want, even if he doesn't see the point. Once you bought a stuffed animal of him. The subtle quirk of his brow was the only indicator of his silent question to its value.
Shota always gets you food, no matter where you go. He never takes you back home without a full belly
-- Bonus thought on that, he thinks you're cutest when you're eating. Your cheeks puffing out, and your avoidance of his face because you think you look bad when you're eating. It's adorable, how shy you get over some food in your mouth
You used to keep your bills on your refrigerator to make sure you paid them... Until Shota took them off your fridge and paid them randomly. You lived alone, and your bills weren't uber expensive, but you still didn't like the idea of him doing it all
Insists that you call him Shota at all times. With the nature of your exchange, formalities are unnecessary.
THIS IS WHERE IT GETS SPICY
Shota loooooves kissing your neck. He always notices when your breath hitches, or when you the little gasp he thinks is so hot falls from your lips.
He's surprisingly gentle, even when he's had a rough night. He's never been one to take out his emotions on other people. He's very rational-minded. '
I think this is a given, but Shota would absolutely restrain you with his scarf. Seeing you give him that pout, all cute and helpless... It does things to him
Shota looooves hearing you beg. He doesn't value himself as much as he should, so hearing you say you need or want him really gets him going
Shota also loves when you ride him. Although, even if you're on top, you don't get control. Your hands are wrapped up in front of you with his scarf, and his hands move you.
More cat things for @eraserheadaizawashota and @class-1c-shinso
add as many cat things as possible
Poor Jirou. Please reblog but don't repost.
I want this hot piece of ass 👁👅👁
Big tiddie daddy vibes
HORNEE up in here 😂😂😅
What would Aizawa smell like???
My friend tells me he thinks Shouta would be stinky and thus Shinso would be stinky
BUT I BELIEVE SHINSO IS NOT STINKY BOI AND SMELLS LIKE LAVENDAR AND CLEAN LINEN
WHAT DO YAL THINK SHOUTA WOULD SMELL LIKE
When you simp for the sleepy duo and you just want to hug them 😩😩
uhmmm….principal Daley doing very very very not good things Orel in detention- better yet….mayhaps….Tommy littler and Joe dom the fuck out of fakey??? After fakey starts creeping on them in detention????? Hear me out immoral orals….hear me out….?