#Simon Banks

[sentinelmania]

Bruce A. Young as Simon Banks brought his own collection of figurines to his office.

From Mrs. Fish page

https://web.archive.org/web/20050213024022/http://www.squidge.org/~mrs_fish/ts/ccon/pd/cascadepd.htm

a lot of links are already broken, gonna look what I still have

[chrissykp]

Part 3 of AwlenRose's Sentinel Memes!

Take 2 because I screwed up the first time ^_^;

[afrogeekgoddess]

My First Sentinel Fic

Set during “Crossroads,” S3 E19. Simon reminisces about his mother’s cooking, particularly her possum recipe. Simon & Blair. Gen.

[ezrazzle]

After slowly chipping away at this for a while, I'm finally done drawing the cast of The Magnus Archives!

[potato-lord-but-not]

some more Needles doodles, my favorite gay boys, and drew Gertrude, Simon, and Jane for the first time !! yibbee !!

[shotmrmiller]

sugar daddy!simon would go so hard cuz he'd need no sugar but lets his hand linger on the small of your back when standing at the register with his wallet out or grab your foot to massage beneath the table at the upper scale restaurant yall are dining at.

he doesn't push (surprisingly but hey it works for you!) you give him whatever you want, be it just your hand to hold or a chaste kiss on the cheek in thanks after carrying all the stuff he bought to your room. he spoils you rotten regardless but then the issue comes when you actually want him to touch you.

simon doesn't touch. not when you model the little slips of clothing he so generously gifted you from that one overpriced shop at the mall. not when you wear his favorite skirt, the one that got him to talk to you in the first place on the sugar daddy website. not when you invite him in for a nightcap, letting your bare legs rest on top of his while watching a movie.

he. doesn't. touch.

simon doesn't touch you even when you want him to.

keeps his right hand curled around the glass he's nursing and the other laying on the backrest of the couch when you tell him if he wants to peel off the undergarments he'd just bought you today. (a shot you don't shoot is a shot missed anyway.)

"'s not necessary," he says. "got 'em for you to wear." he hasn't taken his eyes off the screen once.

that'd sting more if you hadn't caught him discreetly palming himself outside his trousers while you'd modeled these too.

"might not be necessary but it's what i want." that gets his attention, an arrogant curl on his lip making your heart flutter in your chest.

he gives your knee a squeeze. "i've always given you everythin' you've ever wanted but this is the one thing you're gonna 'ave to work for."

work for? simon doesn't wait for you to ask what he means.

"only way i'm touchin' ya is if ya beg," he rumbles.

should've known it was too good to be true. but you've got an ache between your legs that won't go away no matter how many times you've used the rose (also another gift.) guess you'll just have to "beg".

/

your definition of begging and his are not even in the same dimension. he had shot you down when you'd said please. when you'd batted your pretty eyes at him while saying please. when you'd gotten on your knees between his legs and said please with your hands flat on the carpet.-

simon had only tapped you on the nose and said, "'s good, but not good enough."

what had been good enough was you riding his thigh until sweat slicked your skin, until your lip trembled with need, until his trousers looked like he'd spilled his drink on it while you mewled out your please's.

only then had wiped the corner of your eyes with his thumb and whispered tiny words of praise into your ear, his breath warm against it.

"wasn't so hard, was it, pet?" you'd been beyond reason at that point, core burning almost painfully hot with desire, so you'd jerkily shaken your head. anything to finally get him to touch you like how you need.

his long fingers splayed out across the back of your head, palm almost engulfing your entire head. "now tell me where you want me to touch."

he touches with clever fingers, his warm tongue, even uses his crooked nose to rub at your pearl while his thumb, spit slick, presses into the girl of your arse. having him fuck you is a whole different beast you have to tackle. if you plead for something, anything, he'll rut his cock between your thighs and come over your sticky pussy :)

[johnbrace]

OFSTED, CQC and HMICFRS require Wirral Council to prepare a written statement of action by 19th May 2023 addressing 4 areas of improvement in multi-agency safeguarding

OFSTED, CQC and HMICFRS require Wirral Council to prepare a written statement of action by 19th May 2023 addressing 4 areas of improvement in multi-agency safeguarding                                                       Left (foreground) – Chief Constable of Merseyside Police Serena Kennedy, Middle (foreground) – Police and Crime Commissioner for Merseyside Emily Spurrell An joint inspection of…

[dcartcorner]

networking night

[thesiouxzy]

Christmas dog men’s shirt 🎄🎅🏼🐶

[tojisun]

umm poly!141 + valeria and simon with his fingers shoved into your mouth telling you not to be too loud bc ‘you dont want mommy to hear me ruining her li’l girl, do you?’ and being able to feel simon’s hips stutter every time you buck up at the mention of her and the way he has to muffle a moan into your chest when you start crying because of how sensitive you’re getting

brother this made my kitty flutter im shaking at work

simon’s pressing the taunts on your skin, dragging the words like fiery kisses until he’s digging sharp canines into the tender press of your jugular. he laughs at the rumbled sound of your broken keen, your tongue useless between the spaces of his fingers, and chances a knowing glance at the gleaming red dot snug in the shelf, between your collection of books.

he knows they're watching him ruin you, sweet girl.

simon laps at the angry dent his teeth left and pulls back just enough to see your pretty face, all wet and blotchy from your tears. you look so utterly ruined, debauched in that pornographic way that sends a storm of tremors racing down his synapses, and he thinks how he gets it now—

valeria's mocking croons; her heavy hand against your supple skin; her detachment, the one she slips in so easily when it comes to you.

being mean to you is such a prize.

"y'know mommy hates it when we play with her darlin' without her," simon murmurs, eyes flicking down to where he is connected to you, watching raptly at the glistening ring of your cunny, puffy from overuse, as he pulls out slowly, deliberate in prolonging the dizzying itch. he knows you don't like it when they're like this—punishingly slow, forcing your pussy to adjust to the wrongness of being empty. all hollowed.

only when the head is left does he look back at you. he curls his brows, faux worry, before pressing down on your tongue again. then, he whispers, almost like the two of you are sharing a sweet secret, "so be quiet f'me, yeah? we don't want mommy t'be angry."

you couldn't even give him a proper reply, one that would surely be gargled, before simon snaps his hips snug to your pelvis, bullying all of his cock back in your weeping cunt. the reaction is instantaneous—pussy spraying, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, and a wretched cry tearing from your throat.

simon grins and he knows it looks unkind.

"puta madre," valeria laughs, plucking the cigar that john passed to her, and turns to look at him. "your boy fucks good."

john chuckles, deep baritones almost reverberating.

"doesn't he?" he replies, pride curling in his words.

in the silence, they turn back to the screen and watch; their own need growing, burning, ready to lash out.

[rememberwren]

Lord forgive me but I’m a little obsessed with the thought of bank robber!Simon. tw: dubcon, guns, reader wears a dress

I can see it as some blistering hot day in the 60’s, sweat dripping down the back of reader’s neck soaking into the collar of your dress on your way just from the car to the bank.

As you’re stuck standing in line the first gunshot rings out and everyone hits the floor, panicked cries echoing off the stone floors, arms over their heads (as if that’s going to save them).

And the robber himself is huge, a great hulking man with a mask. He takes out the shaking security guard—who’s probably never shot the gun at his hip in his life—with a strike on the temple. His voice is booming, no-nonsense as he tells everyone to lay on their bellies with their hands behind their heads and to not do anything stupid if they want to make it home for dinner. He’s on his way toward the back of the bank when he passes you…and you watch his big black boots double back and come to stop right in front of you.

“You,” he gestures with the gun. Your heart pounds with adrenaline. You’ve never felt so small and helpless. “Up.”

“Don’t hurt her,” the gentleman in front of you insists, brave and stupid.

“Not gonna,” the man in the mask says. He even helps you stand, awkward as it is to rise to your feet in your dress. “As long as she behaves herself.”

“Take me instead,” the man insists loudly.

He turns the gun on the man. “Keep talking and she’ll have to see me blow your brains out.”

He forces you along, gun nudging the small of your back. His gloved hand skims the curve of your waist making you shiver. He makes you act as a go-between between him and the bank tellers, makes you retrieve instructions on how to open the vault. He makes you help him fill a canvas bag with bills.

“I think he liked you,” he says slyly.

“Who?”

“Guy out front. Your knight in shining armor,” he mocks, eyes dark beneath his mask, glittering up at you from where he kneels, neatly stacking bands of cash in the bag.

You grimace. “I don’t even know him, I swear.”

“He’d like to know you.”

On the way out, it seems like the nightmare is about to end. But when he leads you back to your initial spot, he forces you down onto your knees and tells you to unbuckle his pants.

He fucks your mouth in front of the whole bank, one hand on the back of your head and the other on his gun, cooing filth to you while your gags and whines echo off the stone around you. You’re not sure if he takes his eyes of the man beside you once, his expression smug as he fucks into the softness of your throat.

He’s still hard when the first hint of sirens can be heard in the distance. His hand forces you down on his cock at a brutal pace, drool dripping from your split-open mouth down to the skirt of your dress. Before he cums, you get scared.

You always get scared.

“Come on, Si,” you say, voice wrecked as you nuzzle against his cock. “Cops are gonna be here soon.”

He sighs, slipping his cock away. “Always the sensible one.”

“Keep you outta jail, don’t I?”

“You—you—“ sputters the man next to you, watching as Simon pulls you to your feet and gently wipes the drool from your chin. “You’re working with him!”

“Hey!” you say with a frown. “He’s working with me!”

The sirens are closer than ever.

Simon gives a long suffering sigh and says: “Let’s argue about it in the car.”

[rowanraven08]

As incentive I’ll draw the winner as a drag queen. This is only male characters rn, if there’s a demand I’ll do one for the ladies too. (And I didn’t forget about Michael distortion, I just feel like if I put as and option all the votes would be for him, and I wanna give the others a chance)

[chrissykp]

Simon: You know what you are, Blair Sandburg? A shenaniganizer! A tomfool!

[mpetrohero]

You cannot pick Jon. It’s not allowed. If you were allowed to pick Jon we’d all pick Jon and he would simply win. *Freddy Fazbear har har tune* Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon Jon

[blac-ivy]

Bitches complain about fandoms being dead but don't post about it themselves. Or even encourage the 4 or 5 writers breaking their backs carrying that fandom, with a like, a reblog or comment. You just want to consume the work and energy of others and can't even replenish their energy by showing your appreciation. The very least you can do for someone who provides entertainment or comfort or joy through their posts is give them a little ❤️

[simonfairchildirl]

ykw fuck it. shitpost.

how tma characters would react to being called the f-slur

asks them to speak up and say it louder

jon / simon / agnes / jordan / annabelle

laughs

sasha / helen / trevor / mike

ignores it

basira / jane / michael / oliver / peter

says it back

elias / daisy / rayner / jared / manuela

says it back but much louder, the way god intended

tim / gerry / jude / amherst

goes on a spiel about how awful it is to say that

martin / natalie / eric / nikola

shouts "KILL YOURSELF"

melanie / mary / julia / callum