#taylor swift crackship

[cutecrackships98]

[valiantwerewolfluminary]

Crackship gifs: Taylor Swift and Taron Egerton

[youngfcs]

— Blake Shelton + Taylor Swift | crackship.

Requested by Anonymous

[limefreakmama]

Faberry moodboard °•~♡~•°

[gigifluidcat]

The things that are being blazed on this site...

[ohdaylight]

Je les poste jamais mais en vrai c'est un challenge que j'aime les crackship car c'est jamais si simple à faire. A l'ère de l'IA je pourrais juste demander à un outil de le faire à ma place mais c'est pas aussi marrant.

[acklesolsen]

False God - Taylor Swift (Lover)

Crackship: Jensen Ackles and Elizabeth Olsen

Dean Winchester and Isabella Mikaelson (Wanda Maximoff)u

[gasp-hehe]

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT TAYLOR SWIFT'S ENDGAME WOULD BE SUGURU GETO. I THINK SHE'D ALSO GENUINELY FIX HIM. I HAVE A LOTTA OPINIONS ON ANYTHING, INCLUDING FICTIONAL CHARACTERS' TYPE, AND I WAS LISTENING TO MIDNIGHTS WHEN I REALISED THAT YES, THIS, THIS IS WHAT THEY NEED. SOMETHING ABOUT HIM QUELLING ALL HER INSECURITIES. SOMETHING ABOUT HER ACTUALLY LISTENING TO HIM AND VIEWING THE PERSON BEHIND HIS JOB AND ABILITIES AND THE PEOPLE HE SURROUNDS HIMSELF WITH. NOT TO MENTION THE CHANGE IN IDEOLOGIES THE TWO WILL HAVE WITH EACH OTHER, FOR THE BETTER. SO YEAH IN CONCLUSION, I REITERATE THE FACT THAT TAYLOR SWIFT COULD'VE PREVENTED ATTEMPTED GENOCIDE.

[erinye-stuff]

taylor swift x carlos sainz

[crackships-and-manips]

Taron Egerton and Taylor Swift

[cutecrackships98]

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

Swifties in Hell

Shannon was in presale for Eras Tour tickets, frantically clicking the mouse and refreshing the screen on Ticketmaster as Samael loomed like an omen in the background.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUCK,” the redheaded biology student said, sweat a sheen on her freckled face as seats were claimed, and she was ten thousandth in line. “We’re never going to get Taylor Swift tickets for us and the guys, Samael!”

Samael peered down the long, bent and hooked length of his nose with eyes that burned like the red fires of Mordor. “Beelzebub will be so disappointed. His favorite music is whiny spoiled blondes complaining about their whorish Millennial dating debacles.”

“Oh, shush, Sam, you love ‘Shake It Off’ – holy shit, WE GOT THEM FOR US AND THE GUYS!!!”

“Woohoo. I want to die.”

She jumped, screaming, and tackled Sam. “We’re going to D.C.. to see TAYLOR SWIFT! I’m throwing a Swiftie party in the Hellopolis BASEMENT tomorrow, and you all HAVE TO COME.”

“Can I claim the fourth.”

She smothered him with kisses. “My dream!”

“I thought I was your dream, Shannon.”

“I mean, I love you, Sam, but Taylor Swift is like the female Messiah.”

He cradled Shannon in his arms, kissing his girlfriend. “You mean a white woman Shai Hulud, a sandworm infecting Zoomer and Millennial girl brains and making them spend their life savings on pink tacky vinyls and bimbo-branded merchandise.”

“Alexa, play ‘Shake It Off,’” Shannon said without skipping a beat.

The lyrics came on, and Samael could not stop his demon tail from thumping along in time.

Shannon grasped his black tail, then began to suck on its pointed heart-shaped end.

Samael moaned, bucking into her. “I am not fucking to Taylor Swift – oh fuck, take me here you scarlet harridan, on the floor like a rawdog bear.”

“As you say, Matty Healy.”

Shannon was dressed like a Tortured Poet, beret on, white paper-covered dress with fresh ink, a typewriter in the basement office, pale pink cupcakes with illuminated poetry icing she had baked, an ice cream cake with a picture of Matty Healy, and she had forced Samael to wear a red scarf.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Swifties in Hell party!” Shannon, eternally nineteen due to Samael forcing his heart in black alchemical larceny on her, proclaimed to the archdemons. The usually sere, black, bone covered, and gore spattered dank basement had been painted pink, with balloons, a Taylor Swift cutout, and pink mood lighting. She had sprayed Bath and Body Works vanilla bean perfume over the myrrh and rot.

Asmodeus was chagrined, a succubi hooker on his arms, her triple red tits blushed with bruisy kisses: “Um, Shannon, what is this exactly?”

Beelzebub was drinking a watermelon Whiteclaw Shannon had filled the cooler with, instead of their usual blood wine and hell beer. “Tasty. Girly shit. But tasty.”

Lucifer checked the cake, then helped himself to some. “I think Shannon’s forcing us to another concert. Samael, your outfit is gay.”

“I’m apparently John Mayer.”

Shannon was busy making candy bead friendship bracelets with Asmodeus’ naked hell prostitute, Batsheva. She ignored them.

“Omg, Bat. I love Cornelia Street to!”

“But girl,” Batsheva said. “The way Joe Alwyn did her dirty.”

It was not very easy fitting thirteen foot tall, clawed, multiple headed, insect and beast appendaged demons into Capital One Arena, but Shannon made do. They had floor tickets.

“She’s very peppy,” Lucifer observed as Taytay played guitar and danced in a sparkly uni and go go boots.

“I’d rather be at Falling in Reverse,” Samael sighed, smoking like a chimney, now dressed as Travis Kelce, Shannon in his lap, bouncing along.

“Oh shit, this is GOOD. Go Taytay!” Asmodeus hooted.

Beelzebub was swapping spit with a Swiftie twink.

Finally, ‘Shake It Off’ came on. Energy swelled in the mesmerized crowd, and Samael felt rhythmic, feral white girl energy enter his ancient, blackened bones.

“Oh god, I get it. I GET SWIFTIEMANIA. SHE IS THE FEMALE MESSIAH!” Sam cried, having a white girl revelation.

The demons cried and danced. Shannon rode Samael’s shoulders as they got up to totally G-rated debauchery, candy bracelets on, phone lights swaying, screaming and crying

In

Demonic Swiftie

Frenzy.

It was the best night, so far

Of Samael’s

Life.

[gyubby99]

😁

[shitivemade]

[alpacaroni-and-cheese]

Leah and Fatin, A Journey of Forgiveness

Spoilers for The Wilds seasons 1 and 2 Trigger warning for brief mention of a canon suicide attempt. Be safe before you read <3

Throughout the first season of Amazon Prime's series, The Wilds, you could be forgiven for thinking that Leatin (or Latin, for the OGs) was a rarepair. A crackship, if you will.

They had some intensely homoerotic moments (wiping your own blood on your rival's face? I see you, Fatin) and some deeply important and emotional moments (see my previous essay), but for most watchers of the show, they weren't much more than semi-strangers to lowkey friends to bitter enemies to close friends.

But then season 2 came out.

Forgive me, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's go back to the beginning of the season.

Leah has pulled herself out of a man-made pit designed by the experimenters who are threatened by her. She's so desperately close to unravelling the whole sick and twisted game, she just has to show the others the pit, and then they'll believe her.

When she gets back to the beach, however, there's no time to go looking for the pit, triumphant and vindicated, because Rachel is dying. A large portion of her arm has been bitten off by a shark. She needs a hospital and trained professionals, but the best they have are antibiotics and an understanding that bleeding is bad. The open wound is cauterised and bandaged to within an inch of its life.

Did I mention all of this is happening while epiphany by Taylor Swift plays in the background? Soul destroying stuff.

Anyway, now that Rachel isn't actively dying, Leah can drag Fatin away to find the pit, but it's gone.

Leah can't believe it. She knows it was real, and she knows Nora put her in there. She knows she didn't imagine it, but the proof is all gone. The truth has once again slipped through her fingers.

Fatin, on the other hand, is only growing more and more concerned for Leah. For some context, Leah's near-drowning experience only happened just a couple of days prior, so from Fatin's perspective, this could easily be a worsening of Leah's mental state. If she's hallucinated this pit, then she's quickly going to become a greater danger to herself and to the others. Fatin now not only has to especially worry about Rachel, but Leah as well.

And Fatin is tired. She's exhausted, and her threads are pulled taut, ready to snap.

The episode jumps ahead a little, just a few days, and we see that Leah is still searching for the pit. She's disappearing for hours at a time, under the pretence of doing something vaguely useful (like gathering wood for the signal fire) but returning with little to no real progress made.

Fatin notices all this, because of course she does.

She tries to convince Leah it was just a mirage, but Leah doesn't budge. She can't budge, because finding the pit is her only real way of knowing she hasn't completely lost it.

The group is moving camp from outside on the beach to inside the forest, so everybody is gathering up their stuff and moving it in-land. Leah's helping, sort of, but she's still lost in her spiral.

Leah believes that she needs answers, and the person who can best give her those answers is lost to the waves, presumed dead. So she goes for the next best thing, too caught up in her own monsoon of guilt, paranoia and unflinching desire to find the truth to realise that the answers she's trying to find are not as important as protecting Rachel's fragile heart and mind.

Before anyone can step in and stop the inevitable fracturing, she prods, and Rachel implodes.

All of the girls rush forward to Rachel. Some, like Toni, stand guard, facing Leah and warning her not to come closer. Others, like Shelby and Martha gently soothe and comfort Rachel, whose grief and guilt is on full display.

Fatin, however, is furious.

She grabs Leah and drags her to the cliffs, shoving her up against the cliff-face.

She snarls, teeth bared in anger. Leah causing hurt to herself was bad enough, but the escalation to hurting Rachel was a step too far.

Fatin bites, tearing into the soft, exposed underbelly.

"You take your delusions, and you take your theories, and you fucking bury them, now! And if you ever take them within 100 feet of Rachel again, I'll fucking kill you."

These words will haunt her, but she has a point. Leah was wrong for interrogating Rachel.

Confronted with the fact that she hurt Rachel, and exhausted of the ceaseless noise bouncing around in her head that something is wrong, Leah makes a decision. A bad one.

She overdoses. Later, she'll say she didn't really want to die, she just wanted to stop feeling.

We don't see the immediate fallout, episode 2 picks up a couple of days later. Leah is near-catatonic, lying on a bed of bamboo. Rachel is nearby, in a similar state.

Fatin, Toni and Dot sit together close by, and Fatin is tearing strips off clothing to make new bandages for Rachel.

Fatin is scared. More scared than she's ever been before in her life. She's filled with guilt, and wishing she didn't have to deal with this reality.

So she pretends that she doesn't care, because that's easier than facing her fear and her guilt. She knows, deep down, that despite her anger being righteous, she went too far.

"What matters is, she's alive, and she's finally fucking quiet."

Rachel, who is sick of being babied, and likely just a bit pissed off at Fatin's insensitivity, resolves to get Leah up and moving herself. To the surprise of all present, it works. Leah breaks out of her catatonia and stumbles after her.

They spend some time together, sharing a real, honest conversation. They've spoken to each other before, obviously, but this is the first time each one is sharing their true selves. No more facades of being a better person than they are, no more ulterior motives. Just Leah and Rachel.

They forgive each other, and themselves, forging an unbreakable bond.

They bring out in each other the first real joy they've felt in days, maybe even weeks (just look at their faces!).

Fatin sees Leah healing, and shares in her joy. Although, maybe now she's starting to have some revelations...

2x03 sees Leah and Rachel spending more time together. Their bond deepens, and the two characters who have been the most tense for the entire duration of the show, finally get to be relaxed.

"Well if I had one that counted the number of hours since my last neurotic thought, I would be at like, a hundred."

They gather bamboo to make repairs for the beds at camp, when Leah realises something. They can make instruments out of the bamboo.

Multiple hours of practice later, they arrive back at camp, proudly holding their crudely-but-lovingly-made instruments.

They play Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It's a little off-key ("She's flat, but fuck me.") but the heart is there, and soon everyone is singing along.

Martha is dancing, Rachel and Dot are singing their hearts out, and Toni and Shelby are busy making googly eyes at one another.

And Leah?

Well, she makes her way over to Fatin.

She sings, "Home is whenever I'm with you," while cradling Fatin's face in her hands. Fatin melts, understanding the message, and falling even further in love.

In a tumultuous, traumatic time of their lives, filled with misery, guilt, shame, fear, depression, anxiety, paranoia, and bone-deep exhaustion they'll probably never fully recover from, this one simple gesture says everything.

I heard all you said. I felt your teeth tear my weary flesh. I bled from your wounds, but that's over now. I understand why.

I forgive you.

[hannamadethese]

In the source link you can find 166 gifs of someone who looks like an American singer aka Taylor Swift in various eras and videos because i'm a messy bitch and this is just what I fancied giffing. i'll probably continue to add to this as new projects emerge. please don’t use to roleplay minors, turn into gif icons or add to gif hunts without asking me first. you are welcome to use in crackships or edits as long as you credit me. Please and thank you.