Crank Baby!

Highly selective and independent roleplay blog for Trevor Philips (GTAV) 18+ only. Sideblog to @Mettleborn. [Header image credit: @villainte]

[crankbaby]

Pinned Post

Introduction: 

Welcome to my highly selective, independent and adults only roleplay blog for the trash baby that is Trevor Philips from GTAV, established March 2021 as a sideblog to @mettleborn​

The Muse: 

Name: Trevor Philips

Faceclaim: Steven Ogg

Age: 37 

Height: 6 1′’

Nationality: Canadian

Gender: cis male

Sexuality: pansexual

Persuasion: bottom leaning switch

You will find more information about Trevor on his official wiki page - here. 

At the moment he has four verses: GTAV, Modern Crime, (which will allow me to RP him in modern situations out with a Grand Theft Auto context), Alien verse (exclusive with @unburiedhatchet) and The Walking Dead: apocalypse verse. You’ll find more verse information here. 

Please note this is a pro-Trikey blog.

The Mun:

My name is E, (she/her) and I live in the UK. This blog is multi-ship and multi-verse and I will only RP with mutuals, who must be over 21.

Rules can be found over on my main blog, here or here for mobile, but I do need to add some additional information for Trevor, due to the nature of his character and canon:

Disclaimer / Public Health Warning: 

This blog is ‘adults only’ and will include mature themes. There will likely be violence, gore, murder, drug use, alcoholism, solvent abuse, toxic relationships, sex work and abusive behaviour. If you are not comfortable with any of this, please do not follow.  This should go without saying, but please note, as a mun, I do not endorse Trevor’s views, actions or behaviour in any way.

[mettleborn]

[n0g0dshere]

[rpmusingsnmore]

[crankbaby]

A labour of love...I've just put together a new Trikey playlist on Spotify because this ship lives rent free in my head 24/7 - enjoy!

[trevor4ever]

did this like a year and a half ago

[ex-altiora]

idek

[purgatoryfm]

Visit Original Link

[chaosfindsaway]

Beetlejuice almost couldn't believe it when he awoke the next morning - or was it morning? Time didn't really exist in this place; not like it did in the real world.

Oh, what a wild night, though. The marriage went smooth and the fun that came afterwards? Well, let's just say Trevor found out Beetlejuice wasn't lying when he said the downstairs matched the upstairs.

In his rob, he jumped up out of bed and shook Trevor awake. Why were they even sleeping? Dead people didn't need to sleep. This world was so random.

"Hey, come on, babes. We got lots to do today. You can sleep when you're dead. Oh, wait..." Beetlejuice cackled at his own joke, snapping his fingers so his usual pin-stripe suit replaced the robe, "What you wanna do first? You wanna explore the Neitherworld? Or go visit that friend of yours? If we do the latter, there's a few steps we gotta take first. See, it ain't as simple as just snapping my fingers when it comes to the world of the living."

[crankbaby]

Trevor isn’t sleeping; no, he’s recovering – his new husband is not simply the ghost with the most; he’s an animal too and after hours of ravaging each other, pinning and pulling, pining and whining, Trevor is so completely sated, so blissfully wrecked, he’s frankly forgotten he’s dead. Admittedly, after a short while, you get used to the darkness here; that slight tint of grey that seems to filter so seamlessly over the eye. Frankly, if Trevor is going to get railed like that every night, he has no reason to ever need to see the sun again. Well, that’s not quite true is it; there’s still the unfinished business with Mikey. That, however, can wait, there’s still so much of the netherworld left to explore, after all - a honeymoon of sorts.  

Babes…the utterance is enough to cast a lazy, contented smile across Trevor’s face – the cat that got the cream…many times…Beetlejuice is insatiable. It’s good to find someone who can match your chaotic energy in bed…on the floor…against the wall…above a swirling portal, and of course, Trevor’s down for anything.

“Netherworld today? Michael tomorrow?” Trevor suggests, finally pulling himself up to sit and finding no pain in his muscles – he could get used to this dead thing. “Show me the good shit, what you love, I bet you got all sorts of crazy shit here.”

[crankbaby]

“if you mention thomas the tank engine one more time, i’m gonna shoot you in the fucking face.”

Bullet Train Sentence Starters

Removing his shades, Trevor pushes his milkshake aside and rises to lean over the table. Reaching forward, he encourages Kekipi to take out her gun with a flick of his wrist. Pressing his palm flat against the tabletop, he shifts closer and gently tilts his head to speak privately to her.

"Thomas has a breeding kink and likes to fuck Percy while James the Red engine rubs himself raw."

[chaosfindsaway]

"Hey, look, it's your fuck-up too, T," Mikey huffed, pushing past Tommy right after Trevor did - only he stopped briefly, casting Tommy a sour look as he spoke in a hushed voice, "Thanks, asshole. Now I get to listen to more of his bitching." He gave Tommy's shoulder a gentle nudge then followed Trevor to the kitchen. Tommy took the shove with nothing more than a sigh, rubbing at his shoulder as he came into the kitchen after them.

Admittedly, the fuck-up rested mostly on Mikey's shoulders. He'd declined to continue helping the FIB, which he thought was what Trevor wanted anyway. Of course, he refusal to help pissed them off and now the two had a bounty on their heads.

"Help yourself. Toss me one while you're at it," Tommy said, leaning his back against the counter. He held his hand out to wait for the beer, brow quirking. "What kinda fuck up we talking about? I've got kids to take care of, I can't be getting involved in your guys' bullshit anymore."

[crankbaby]

Glancing around Tommy’s place, Trevor faintly nods his head with approval; it’s nothing fancy, granted, not like Mikey’s tower of deceit, way up in ‘Cock’ford Hills, but it’s decent enough for a single Dad. It doesn’t smell of dirty money or police bribes anyway - seems lil’ Tommy did turn honest in the end. It’s crazy really, standing here in between the two brothers, their similarities and differences present in equal measure; one committing crimes, the other busting them...and yet, they are certainly not the antithesis of each other, no. There’s a shared symmetry between them, even when trading annoyed glances, growing up together does that he supposes. Trevor wouldn’t know really, he’s an only child; the only person he ever really felt symmetry with was Michael, but that was a long time ago, longer than he cares to remember right now.

“I’ve got kids to take care of…wah, wah, wah…hey…big bro needs your help, we both do. The price on our heads is getting bigger by the day, so you gotta help us put a stop to this shit, man. You want to end up standing at your brother's grave side huh? Oh, we've all fuckin' been there."

So you gotta help us take out the guy who raised the contract, right - Devin Weston.”

[unburiedhatchet]

Mikey sat at the edge of the bed, casting Trevor a brief side-ways glance. Of course he'd have to ask - Mikey hadn't exactly made it subtle that the conversation wasn't a good one. Shouldn't it have been, though?

It should've been the happiest day of his life, hell. Far from it. All the news did was complicate things further. Not just for him, but for Trevor as well.

His lips sunk into a deep grimace and he swallowed hard before managing to get the words out. "Amanda's pregnant, man." Saying the words out loud brought them to life in a way, leaving a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. His distant gaze yearned to peel away from the floor and look to Trevor - to gauge his reaction - but Mikey couldn't bring himself to. Unease at what he may see in Trevor's expression stopped him.

[crankbaby]

Instantly all the colour drains from Trevor’s face; his complexion suddenly a pallid pale, as if he is about to either pass out or vomit. The experience is overwhelmingly visceral and renders him unable to speak, unable to really move at all. This is it, isn’t it? - this is how it ends. Of course it fucking is; why did he kid himself, why did he allow himself to believe for even a single second that it might work out, that he might be enough, he’ll never be enough. Stupid fucking idiot, he never learns.

A hoarse strangled sound releases from T as he attempts to talk; bile is burning his throat and his stomach is turning with trepidation - he knows this changes everything. Mikey can’t even look at him it seems and perhaps that’s what hurts most, because in this moment, T needs Michael to see him – needs him to understand just how much his next words will hurt to say. He’ll say them anyway; he loves Michael too much to say anything else.

“Congratulations man, you’re gonna a father.”

[crankbaby]

@chaosfindsaway sent: "Did you go to the authorities?" (from Tommy)

“Course I didn’t go to the fuckin’ authorities Tommy, Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.” Putting his foot down, Trevor speeds up the truck. Pain is blossoming in his skull; piercing and urgent; panic is beginning to set in – where the fuck is Mikey?

“Dave Norton is fuckin’ dead, man, and Michael is missing. I report that shit and it goes straight to Steve Haines and that’s the last fuckin’ thing we need…you got any idea how much Merryweather want to fuck us right now?” Trevor’s eyes are wide and wild; he’s clearly high, but it’s more than that; he’s terrified; terrified that he refused to go with Michael to meet Norton today and it might just turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

"According to Lester, Mikey's cell stopped transmitting somewhere around the warehouses on Elysian Island, so that's where we're going. You got your gun? There's an uzi in the trunk."

[crankbaby]

@unburiedhatchet sent: "I love you."

Over the years the trust between them has become terribly eroded. Time has rusted their bond and betrayal is cruelly corrosive. There was a point in their lives where Michael was the only person Trevor truly trusted, where Michael was the only person Trevor truly believed would never knowingly hurt him. Experience, of course, has proven otherwise and yet Trevor still aches to believe every word Michael utters; still has faith in him, no matter what it might end up costing him.

Trevor knows Michael well enough to understand these are words that don’t come easily to him; indeed, he remembers how long it took Mikey to utter them the first-time round, well over a decade ago. So much has changed since then, and yet, so much remains the same. Those blue eyes may have a lot more wrinkles around them now, but they still shine the same; still soften for Trevor in their quiet moments together, when they aren’t at each other’s throats.

Trevor doesn’t question whether Michael is being honest with him, his desire to believe Mikey loves him is too strong; it’s a desperate need and one Trevor has held onto desperately, all this time. No drug will ever feel as good as this.

“I love you more.” Trevor's gaze is reasurring as it rises to meet Michael's. They both know it's true. Slowly his tattooed hand shifts forward to gently cup the side of Michael’s face. “I always will.”

[crankbaby]

Bullet Train Sentence Starters

@sociopathichero sent:  “you’re creepin’ me out, so, if you don’t mind, could you just find another seat, like, way, way, way down there?”

“Well excuse me for fuckin’ breathin'.” Trevor rolls his eyes and stays in his seat, continuing to eat what remains of his extra-spicy taco just as noisily, adding extra emphasis to his lewd sounds of satisfaction. He recognises the accent straight away; fucking Russians, always so fucking surly, so fucking rude. Creeping him out? What, has the guy never seen a grown-ass man intimately enjoy a taco before?  

Licking each of his greasy fingers in turn, Trevor balls up the stained wrapper and throws it into a nearby bin. Glancing up at the clock Philips groans loudly. Just how fuckin’ long is this gonna take?

“So, you worked with this crew before?” Philips asks, not overly concerned as to whether his conversation is welcome or not – they’re all here to do a job and get paid, that’s what matters.  

[sykesarchive1]

thinking about the dynamic between the self-made cynic and the bleeding heart

[sykesarchive1]

the self made cynic; created with bared teeth and bloodied knuckles. clawed their way out of hell and didn't come out quite human. every thing about them is a carefully constructed persona - you can't hurt someone who doesn't exist, and they will never be hurt again. faithless through and through. the only savior they believe in is themselves.

the bleeding heart, on the other hand is fundamentally incapable of being anything other than themself. they love the way an open wound does. it's hemorrhagic and contagious. faithful to a fault. they will jump without hesistation, though they'll hit the ground consumed with guilt.

[shinnoks-deactivated20161219]

You’re late. Nine years fucking late.