#remember how this baldi is more of a kind of crack baldi thats not the same case for the classic version

[jrjeremy]

uh oh

fun fact: for every question you get wrong, he gets worst

[traiinedhard-a]

"The Guardian" + one of his kids. I can't remember any of their URLs but dadtama. Idk what kind of attack. Energy bomb. Go nuts.

ANON || ASK MEME || @nimietied

Saitama was sure that they’d want him to stay out of this fight. He knew himself that he was curious to see how Crona would handle this particular monster -- they’d been a hero for a few weeks now, and their potential was promising. But promising didn’t always mean the battle would work in their favor. In the blink of an eye, it shot up -- towering above the mesiter and the city, feeling impossibly large. Well, it WAS a Dragon level threat, but; he was almost certain they could handle it.  And as it turned out, this so happened to be one of the ones falling short from their favor; Crona almost had it down for the count. With a quick flash of the demon sword in their hand now covered with monster guts, it’d slammed right back onto the ground. Saitama felt a strange feeling bubbling up in his chest -- he felt so... proud. As he waved and hollered, Crona blushed, toying with a strand of their hair and shyly accepting the praise with a small smile, Saitama froze. ‘ Why.. is that monster glowing? And is it just me, or does that look like... ‘ Saitama’s eyes widened.  “Oi, Crona! It’s gonna explode --” And right as he’d said that, his breath hitched; it felt like time skidded to a near complete halt. Crona’s shocked response fell on deaf ears as Saitama all but flung himself at the teen, gripping onto them just in the nick of time as the last-ditch effort bomb from the monster exploded. The roar was deafening and rubble was fiercely pelting his back, but Saitama made sure to shield as much as they could of the meister in his grip. Not that the rubble hitting him made much of an impact when it hit him, but with the speeds it was flying at he was almost certain it would have brutally injured Crona in some way. The impact had already toppled several buildings and decimated many more, but there was one just above them thats foundations started to crack.  Of course, it fell directly on top of the two. Saitama would have simply caught it and held it away from them, but there was still rubble flying everywhere, so he couldn’t really risk it. The heat licked at their backs and Saitama’s pretty sure part of his outfit caught on fire, but it would be out soon enough -- this fabric didn’t really burn all that well, but an explosion of this magnitude would certainly toast his outfit a bit. ( and somewhere, in the very back of his mind, he noted that this must be happening much faster than it felt. at least, for Crona anyways; but to him, this all felt so agonizingly slow. it was the curse of posessing super speed, he supposed. ) Thank God that Saitama was huddled over them; the building, when it made contact with the floor, simply broke around the caped baldy, doing little to no damage if any. Most days, he’d hardly call his super strength a blessing, but today he was forever grateful for it. He probably wouldn’t be able to pinpoint what he was feeling or even acknowledge it, but it was certainly a bit of anxiety. The kind he’d had when Genos would go off alone or he’d seen Genos wrecked so horribly -- he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Crona got hurt simply because he didn’t step in. Let alone the fact that Crona was a child who was just learning how to get out of their shell, and to cut it short would be so.. tragic. Especially because they were his kid now, and were going to be for as long as he lived. It was a solid thirty seconds more before he let go of them, standing up and dusting off his now dirt-and-gravel caked clothing, his cape resting over their heads. Moving the now tattered material from over top of them, he dusted himself off to his best ability, then rolled his head to crack it a little. “...Geez, what a jerk. I just cleaned this suit.” After taking a moment to collect himself and his slightly-frayed nerves, he offered his hand out to assist the meister in standing again. ( even though they were shaking kinda like a newborn foal, he’d mused ). He gave the tiniest of smiles -- one filled with relief, no doubt, but also to disarm the tense air around them in the now desecrated building.  “Maybe we should be more careful in picking your battles so that doesn’t happen again.”