Tootie Timmy Novels & Stories

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.

When the bell ring all the little leave the playground while i stay on the floor until i see a shadow towering over me, i look up and see timy. "What are you doing here little girl" ~timy "The meanie girl pulled my hair and pushed me" i say with a pout "Did you tell your teacher" ~timy I nod and tell him she got corner time "Then why is the little girl crying" he ask and scoop me up "I want daddy" i pout

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I embarrass her, Timothy?” Timothy gave a soft chuckle. “No, Ma’am. It actually suits Rebecca. She is my baby girl.” I smacked his arm. “You too.” “Ma’am? How about you call me… Mom? Or you can just call me… Carol.” The spoon Timothy had been holding clattered against his plate for no apparent reason. He let out an awkward laugh and suddenly excused himself. “Sorry, Mom. Tim can be really stubborn. He ate nachos earlier—even though he’s lactose intolerant. Now his stomach’s acting up,” I said, shaking my head.

Oh yeah, being the tough one are we? Timi was known as the Family's consumer, Kene calls him the Final consumer. That chubby potato can eat ehn, most especially meat and any fried food. He got most of his habits from me, just that he was the lazy type. We always have to beg him everyday to do his School Assignments, and his every day anthem was always 'my mummy, there is no school tomorrow' I almost fell for it last week if not for Tobi. Even though Timi got his fair complexion and some other habits from me, I have never seen anyone who cries when it was time to brush and bath. If you check his school notebooks, you will always see 'mum's sunshine' written on it and trust me, he doesn't stop

"He is a credit to you and your Luna." "Timon - Pumbaa", Damien snapped, frustrated, waving between himself and Tommy, who stood beside Ab's, "Great, now we are all introduced. Can we get this show on the road?" "Why do I have to be the warthog?" Tommy grumbled, trying yet again to defuse Damiens's anger. "I mean- if the t-shirt fits..." Damien smirked sarcastically, raising a brow at Tommy; relief spread through me, knowing Tommy's wit had the desired effect. Damien seemed to have cooled down a few degrees.

“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?”

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.

Eros growls, "He's going to give you a smile." I smile for him, to calm him down. Slowly but surely, Timmy stops crying, especially when Birdie starts promising the moon and the stars for him. And that's why he's so damn spoiled and a brat, because of Birdie. I try to discipline him but Birdie always gets in my way. "Play for a little, baby, we'll go out to eat later," he promises. Timmy nods, then he extends his hands to me, "Give him the rest of his stuff now."

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

A black shirt paired with black shorts, with a black Gucci palm I couldn't help a lazy smile. This boy doesn't like stress. "Look at my baby, oshey. Turn around let me insepect you very well." I gushed at Timi. He barked out a laughter before turning around slowly and not forgetting to add few poses. Clown. I couldn't help but laugh when he blew me a kiss and striked a girlie pose. "You guys are irritating." Fikkie grumbled from his positon on the plastic table. "You love us." Timi snickered back at him.