Timmy Cartoons Novels & Stories

I almost laughed imagining Timothy as a pre-teen, so innocent and full of wonder. “Hey, I was all about the Fantastic Four,” Timothy continued, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. “Sometimes I wish I could stretch my arms that long, or even be impenetrable like The Thing!”

“What’s your name kid?” “Timmy, Sir. Boy, I’m so excited. Wait til I show my friends at school. They’re not gonna believe I have your autograph.” Cody ruffles his hair, my heart squeezes. It’s kind of difficult to be mad at him whilst he’s being so adorable with Timmy.

He belongs to the supernaturals but not as an Angel or a demon. • Timothy Jones: He's a seventeen-year-old bunny boy (has bunny teeth). He's 179cm tall (5'10ft) and weighs around 65 kg (143 lbs). MBTI type: ISFJ. He's cute as hell, owning the shiniest pair of big doe eyes. Not to forget that he's a muscle pig, protective of everyone he loves. Timothy is a coconut head with thick brownish hair. This stupid boy took up special tests and studied hard to jump a year, and as a result, he's in the same year as Sofia and Scarlet. Being the youngest, he's cherished and protected by everyone even though a single punch from him can break the opponent's jaw. Favorite color: Red. Zodiac: Virgo. He has a

Not long after, the car stopped in front of famous fast food in the City. Timmy was jumping in excitement. I held his hand tight, afraid to let him go. He smiled at me and held on me tight too. Timmy and I looked for a vacant table while Caspian was in the counter, ordering our food. Timmy was still ecstatic and couldn't stop talking. “When will I get to see Grandma again?” he asked. I smiled. “Anytime you want, Timmy. She said you could come anytime.” “I'm so happy, Ms. Annika. I don't have a grandma. I have a grandpa, but I don't see him often,” his voice trailed off.

“I hear you. Don’t worry.” He gave a satisfied little nod, though his pout lingered. Then, just as quickly, his attention shifted when his eyes caught sight of colorful stalls lined up by the small park across the street. Balloons bobbed in the air, children laughed, and an ice cream cart stood at the center like a beacon. “Aunt Cassy, look!” he exclaimed, tugging her hand eagerly. “Ice cream! Can we get one? Please, please?” Cassy’s chest tightened with something bittersweet. She managed a laugh, though it wobbled around the edges. “You already had too many sweets today, Timmy. Remember the chocolate biscuits earlier?”

Tim sadly looks down at his plate and plays with the green peas. “Why didn’t she say goodbye? Was I bad?” He asks meekly while looking at him through his eyelashes. “No you’re so good, for both daddy and mommy.” Zen smiles at him but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. Tim nods slowly and gets off the chair and walks up the stairs holding his little yellow teddy bear close to his heart. A maid follows him up to tuck him to sleep, Zen watches him intently and slowly gets off the chair and walks towards his study.

Chen called from upstairs. “I’m coming love.” Timmy responded. “The goddess won’t like what I’m doing,” Timmy muttered. He used the television remote control to change the television, which was showing a review of the previous year’s RCCG Holy Ghost Convention, to another channel which was showing Looney Tunes.

Timmy uttered. "I need to go. I can't stay much longer my parents will be mad at me." Alison pretended to leave as she left her shoes behind. We stopped the clock tower chime that was recorded beforehand. "Wait don't go yet. I still don't know your name." Timmy shouted. He bends back to get the shoe from the prop stairs but as soon as he missed a step he falls with a loud thud and a crack. We immediately got on stage to check on Timmy. He injured his knees so badly that he was in tears already. Humans are as fragile as always.

Tugging up my boots and holstering an arrow tip in my pocket for good measure, I set out to work. ++ {…} ++ "Oh wow, Missy, you look just awful!" "Gee, thanks. It's nice to see you too, brat." I greeted back with a grimace, watching as Timmy seemed to pop out of nowhere from a nearby bush. Come to think of it, he seemed to do that a lot. His little face turned up at me and despite his harsh appraisal of my appearance, he was smiling. "I'm here and ready to help ya, Missy Robin! Just like a good right hands mans! Show me to thee rocks!"

“A little boy. Dark hair. Still in his spiderman Jammies? Maybe angry too? Walking willingly to his doom?” "Oh, trust me," Timmy chuckled, his voice faintly echoing in the big hall. "A boy in Spiderman jammies would be hard to miss." He winked. I had no clue what was so funny about wearing spiderman jammies. But maybe I was too freaked out to understand or appreciate his sense of humour. All I could see or sense right now was his staggering assholeness that I didn't have time for. When I did nothing but stared up at him with pure frustration, he lifted his hands in defeat.