Book 1: Beyond The Blast (Bkdk)

Bakugo's Unexpected surprise

The rooftop air crackled with unspoken tension.  The weight of Aizawa's words hung heavy between Izuku and Bakugou, punctuated by the distant chirping of crickets.  The vibrant hues of the sunset bled into a twilight sky, mirroring the storm of emotions brewing within them.
Suddenly, Izuku's phone cut through the silence with a jarring ringtone.  He fumbled for it, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the caller ID – "Aunt Mitsuki."  Panic surged through him.  Was everything okay?

He answered the call, his voice strained with worry.  "Hello, Aunt Mitsuki?  Is everything alright?" A booming voice filled the phone, laced with an uncharacteristic warmth.  "Izuku, my dear boy!  Listen carefully.  It's Katsuki's birthday tomorrow, and we're having a little surprise party.  You and those classmates of his better be there at 7 sharp, or you'll all face the wrath of a Bakugou mama!"
Relief washed over Izuku, quickly replaced by a surge of excitement.  He stole a glance at Bakugou, who stood stiffly, a dark scowl plastered on his face.  But a flicker of something... surprise? ... flitted across his crimson eyes.

A burst of nervous energy propelled Izuku into action.  He quickly contacted Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina, his childhood friends and Bakugou's begrudging classmates.  Their surprise mirrored his own.  None of them knew Bakugou's birthday, but the idea of a surprise party for the fiery hero-in-training was irresistible. They spent the next few hours scrambling to plan. 

Kirishima, ever the enthusiastic one, decorated his dorm room with borrowed streamers and balloons.  Kaminari, despite his usual goofiness, managed to snag a limited edition grenade keychain Bakugou had once admired.  Mina, with her artistic flare, whipped up a hilariously oversized red scarf, knowing Bakugou's fondness for the color. Izuku, meanwhile, wrestled with his own gift.  Nothing seemed grand enough, nothing spectacular enough for his childhood rival, the one person who had pushed him to become the hero he was today. 

Then, his hand instinctively reached for his trusty hero notebook.  Perhaps, a glimpse into his journey, his relentless pursuit of heroism fueled by Bakugou's constant challenge, could be a fitting gift.
The next day, a flurry of nervous excitement filled the air as they all converged outside the Bakugou household.  Kirishima, bursting with barely contained energy, fumbled with the decorations.  Kaminari fretted about his gift, muttering about static electricity and potential explosions.  Mina adjusted the ridiculous scarf around her arm, fighting back laughter.

Izuku, clutching his precious notebook, felt a familiar sense of nervousness.  Bakugou, for all his bluster, was still someone he cared about, a begrudging friend forged in the crucible of their childhood rivalry.A Blast (But of the Good Kind) As they approached the familiar gates, a cacophony of sounds greeted them – laughter, booming voices, and the unmistakable sizzle of barbecue smoke.  A sign, crookedly hanging across the fence, proclaimed  "Happy Birthday, Kacchan!"  A warmth spread through Izuku's chest.  Their surprise seemed to have landed.
Stepping into the backyard, their jaws dropped. 

The entire Bakugou family, along with a few select classmates, were gathered around a roaring barbecue.  Aunt Mitsuki, surprisingly jovial, greeted them with a booming hug.  Even Uncle Masaru, ever stoic, cracked a smile. The party was in full swing.  Bakugou, the supposed center of attention, stood awkwardly amidst the chaos, his face flushed redder than his usual fiery explosions.  But despite his gruff protests and attempts to appear annoyed, a hint of a smile peeked through his facade.

As the evening rolled on, the gift-giving segment arrived.  One by one, his classmates presented their carefully chosen presents, each eliciting a different reaction from Bakugou – a snort of amusement at Kaminari's keychain, a muttered "not bad" for Mina's scarf, an eye roll followed by a grudging "thanks" for Kirishima's monstrous knitwear creation.
When it was Izuku's turn, everyone fell silent.  Hesitantly, he approached Bakugou, offering his worn notebook.  "Kacchan," he said softly, "I know this isn't much, but..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence.  Bakugou stared at the notebook, his eyes wide with surprise.  Then, a flicker of understanding crossed his features.  He reached out and took the notebook, his fingers brushing against Izuku's for a fleeting moment.  A jolt of electricity shot through Izuku, a byproduct of their amplified connection.  But this time, it wasn't just information – it was a flicker of warmth, a silent thank you.

Ps. This is a special for our angry Pomeranian