Eras ship one-shots

💜🩶

Sorry for the delay in posting! Life's been a bit busy, but I managed to make some time for an update. I wanted to write about my favorites (after 198nights). It's a bit of a surprise since I haven't really written much about Speaklore, but I still absolutely love my girls. This piece was inspired by Speak Now (the song), so I recommend giving it a listen while you read. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now and let you start reading.

TW: None.
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It had been a long day for Speak Now. The kind of day where time slipped through her fingers, and her mind couldn't keep up with the ceaseless grind of work, the late-night calls, the noise of everything around her. She had taken a walk earlier, trying to clear her head, but as the sun set behind the city's skyline, she found herself back in her apartment. Alone.

The apartment felt like it was holding its breath — quiet, still, as if it too felt the weight of the day. Lamplight bathed the room in a warm glow, casting long shadows on the walls. A half-empty cup of coffee sat untouched on the table, the steam long gone, like her energy. Her heart, too, felt heavy. She tried not to think about the past. Tried to pretend the tangled parts of her life were not haunting her, that she could leave it all behind. But just as she was about to convince herself she was fine, it arrived.

A thick cream envelope, sealed with an intricate wax stamp, was lying on the doormat. It hadn't been addressed to her directly, just her name — Speak Now — written in elegant script. She didn't think much of it at first, but when she opened it, her breath caught in her chest.

The wedding invitation, crisp and formal, was there — and with it, the scent of lavender, a fragrance she remembered all too well. A scent that had once been a part of Folklore. Folklore was printed in delicate letters at the top. Below, a simple, precise note:

"We invite you to celebrate the wedding of Folklore and Poets, Saturday, 4 PM, St. Jude's Cathedral."

Those words — they hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt her heart skip a beat, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. She hadn't seen Folklore in years. Not since the breakup. Not since Folklore had chosen a quieter, more settled life with Poets. She had been left behind, too proud to move on, too tangled in the love she could never let go of. And now, here it was. The moment. Folklore, moving forward. And Speak Now, still stuck in the past.

She didn't know what to do with the invitation. Should she go? Pretend everything was fine? Smile, act like the past didn't hurt? Or should she follow her heart — the same heart that had never stopped beating for Folklore, even after all this time?

Her hands shook slightly as she set the invitation down, staring at it like it might somehow offer her an answer. But no matter how long she stared, it remained the same — silent, unmoving, mocking her indecision.

The day of the wedding arrived too soon. She had tried to prepare herself. She'd convinced herself it would just be a formality. Show up. Smile. Be polite. Leave. She was just a fleeting presence in Folklore's life, as she'd always been. But when she slipped into her black dress that morning, letting her curls fall loose, she realized there was no way she could just "show up." Not when she was still so tangled up in the remnants of a love that never truly died.

She arrived at St. Jude's Cathedral early. The building loomed large, grand, and cold, like something out of a dream. Guests were already trickling in, their voices buzzing in the air.

Speak Now entered quietly, hoping to fade into the background. She sat at the back, hands clasped in her lap, trying to steady her breath. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, even though the ceremony hadn't even begun.

Then the doors at the front swung open, and the soft music began to play. Poets appeared first, standing confidently at the altar, her hands clasped, her posture straight. Poets was everything Folklore needed. Everything Speak Now couldn't be — quiet, steady, reliable. And when Folklore walked into the church, wearing an elegant gown, Speak Now's heart stopped. She had never seen Folklore so beautiful. So sure.

Folklore moved down the aisle, every step seeming more perfect than the last. Speak Now's eyes followed her, aching with every movement, every beat of her heart. Folklore seemed so sure, so sure of Poets, and yet... there was something missing. Something that had always been between them. Could it really be too late?

The ceremony continued. Poets stood at the altar. Vows were exchanged. The world moved on, as it should. Folklore's eyes never wavered from Poets, as if nothing else mattered. Speak Now, frozen in her seat, fought to keep her composure.

And then the officiant's voice echoed through the cathedral. "Is there anyone here who objects to this union?"

The question rang out, innocent enough. It wasn't meant to disrupt, wasn't meant to stop the flow of things. But for Speak Now, it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, reminding her of everything she had buried.

Without thinking, without stopping, she stood up. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up. The room fell silent. Heads turned. Surprise. Confusion. She didn't care.

"I object," her voice rang out, firm and loud, impossible to ignore.

The room held its breath.

Poets' face went pale. Her eyes snapped to Speak Now, wide with shock. But Folklore — Folklore looked at her with something unreadable. A flicker of surprise, followed by something too familiar. Something too painful.

"I..." Speak Now's voice cracked. She couldn't stop now. She couldn't just sit back and watch. "I can't do this. I can't watch you marry someone else, when all I've ever wanted is to be with you."

There it was. The words she had kept locked away for so long. The confession that had been sitting in her chest, ready to explode. The love. The pain. The regret.

Folklore blinked, taking a deep breath. Her voice trembled. "I... you don't understand. I—"

"I do understand," Speak Now interrupted, voice softer now, desperate. "I understand that you've moved on. That you've found someone who fits your life. But I never stopped loving you. Not once."

The silence stretched out. Poets shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. The tension between Speak Now and Folklore was suffocating. Folklore didn't respond right away. She took a long, steadying breath.

"I... I never thought you'd say anything," Folklore whispered, her voice cracking.

"I never thought I would either," Speak Now admitted, voice cracking. "But I can't let you go without saying this. I love you. And I always will."

And then, without another word, Folklore turned and ran. Speak Now followed, her heart racing in her chest, breath coming fast.

Outside the church, the evening air was cool, the last traces of daylight slipping away into the horizon. The streets were eerily quiet. Speak Now caught up to Folklore, who was walking briskly, her shoulders tense.

"Wait," Speak Now called, breathless. "Please, just wait."

Folklore stopped but didn't turn to face her. "You shouldn't have done that," she whispered. "I was trying to move on. I thought I had to."

"I know," Speak Now replied softly, stepping closer. "But I couldn't keep pretending I was okay with it."

And there, in the fading light of the evening, Folklore turned, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never stopped loving you either. But I thought I had no choice."

A heavy silence fell between them. Then, Speak Now took a step forward, closing the distance. The kiss came softly, tentative at first, but with an aching familiarity neither of them could deny.

In that quiet moment, with the world standing still, they shared something more than words. It was the understanding that, sometimes, speaking up was enough. Enough to start anew.
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I love them so much 💔💔. A super belated happy birthday to Reputation 😭. I hope you all enjoyed this, and feel free to leave any ideas in the comments!