Timmy The Rat Novels & Stories

Tiffy asked from the back seat of the car. My lips curved into a small smile. Soon, we'd be in Boston, and my mind would be at ease. “Yes, sweetie. When has Grandpa ever said no to you?” Timmy huffed and crossed his arms around his chest. “Just don't name him Mr pumpkin.” “It's a much better name than Jacey Commander Noel you chose.” Timmy rolled his eyes at her, muttering a soft “Girls.” Rosa caught his eyes in the rearview mirror “What's wrong with ‘girls’ Timmy ?”

“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.

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

Dominic said and turned his back on Timo as he started screaming again. Gage lowered his head so he was face to face with Timo. “I hear rats eat anything they can, not to starve to death. The scent of your blood will make them hungrier. Dominic added a nice touch to your balls and that’s where they’ll start to nibble.”

“You already had too many sweets today, Timmy. Remember the chocolate biscuits earlier?” “But just one more?” he pleaded, bouncing on his toes, his eyes wide and hopeful. “I’ll be good, I promise!” Her resistance crumbled at once. How could she deny him when he looked at her like that? She sighed and nodded. “Fine. Just one more. But only a small one.” “Yes!” Timothy cheered, throwing his arms up before dragging her toward the cart. The vendor greeted them warmly, and Timothy immediately launched into an excited debate with himself about which flavor to choose. “Chocolate! No, strawberry. Wait—maybe both. Oh! With sprinkles!” He clapped his hands at the thought.

"You've really got the wrong door; it's just my mommy here," Justin explained patiently to Timmy, fetching him some tasty snacks from the kitchen and boasting, "These are made by my mommy, super yummy." Timmy gobbled up the food, clearly having been out for quite a while. "Take it easy," Justin poured him some chocolate milk. With his cheeks stuffed, Timmy looked at Justin. "My mommy, it is my mommy." "But..." Justin was almost frantic, not knowing on how to deal with someone claiming his mum. "

As for himself, he thought with definite conviction that it was going to be extremely boring. "We'll start immediately," said Timmy, unzipping his backpack to return his snack, after taking a handful. "We're not even done with our crackers," retorted Rodge. "Dude, we haven't got all day, you know. We better make the best of our time," said Timmy, bringing out, this time, a pair of binoculars. "What-ever," said Rodge, putting aside his crackers and getting his binoculars. They wore on, also, their mini headphones in their ears, and turned it on.

Alpha Timothy from the Blood rose pack chuckled at how sore Patrick is. Timothy is in his late twenties. He has dark brown eyes and blond hair. He is tall and has a beefy muscular physic. He has a sharp hawk-like nose and fair skin tone. His lips are thin. He can be called handsome. His refined manners and good dressing sense added to his charming smile would make woman vying for his attention. He indulges with women occasionally but never keeps them around for long. He is yet to find his mate. "A young man who is almost half your age scared you, Alpha Patrick?" he made fun of Patrick, who became even more irritated.

Hyena was the leader, and he said in a flattering tone and with a cunning expression, “Don’t be scared, Emma. We’re not here to cause trouble! We’re here to see Mr. Timothy!” Emma was stunned! Meanwhile, Timothy and Zachary got down from upstairs. Timothy was holding a club, his expression ferocious. Timothy spoke through his gritted teeth in a rage, “Hyena! How dare you come here!?” Hyena hastily yielded. “Mr. Timothy, you’ve misunderstood. It’s a misunderstanding!”

Something warm against his leg. He looked down through the blur of rain and tears to see Fester. The little cat was soaked, fur plastered flat, eyes wide and glistening in the dark. He meowed, insistent, rubbing his tiny body against Timothy’s shin as though to say: You are not alone. You must never leave me behind again. Timothy’s lips trembled as he bent, arms reaching to gather the only soul who had never abandoned him— A horn blared. Blinding headlights flooded the crossroad.