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( letter for @spcrited bc i love to suffer )

combahee river, south carolina august 26, 1782 dearest margarita,

in all my struggles between duty and inclination — throughout every battle, every march — my heart has been with you, though so many miles separate us. i am sure alexander, given he has been receiving my letters, has relayed to you news of my illness — i would entreat you not to fret over it, for though feverish i am as well as any in our troops. i’m sure you can imagine how restless i have been to return to the fight, but there is good news in store — i’ve been given command of a battalion, news of a stray group of redcoats having reached us several nights ago. at first light tomorrow, we will ride on them — i intend to make a final effort, after our victory at yorktown, to drive out these men, though our army is reduced to almost nothing.

a request, now, must be made. as always, i have no way of knowing how the battle tomorrow will fare, if the stars shall turn fate against us, though i confess to be less than sanguine in my outlook. the night grows closer — i hope you will forgive me any errors in this text, as candles provide such meager light, and my hand shakes for reasons beyond my knowledge — but i regret, already, any events hence that may not allow me to return to you. i fear you may think me selfish for this, but i entreat you not to mourn me for long, should that be the resolution of this fight. such enchanting smiles as yours exist normally only on the faces of angels ; i could not stand to be the reason that smile fades. it would be an inexcusable offense to allow such a thing to occur, and, my peggy, i would rather be execrated than to be the catalyst of that tragedy.

i would beg you to remember that even if my heart fails to stir, the whole of it will always be wherever you may be. dream of me, as i will of you in my amaranthine rest. i send all my love, and urge you to not forget the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate laurens, even subsequent of whatever may occur tomorrow. i long to see you again — whether in this earthly career or in the happy immortality that lies just beyond. adieu, my dear girl.

yours forever, john laurens.

#spcrited #;; writing.#ᵛ ;; ᴿᴵˢᴱ ᵁᴾ⋅ —– ( revolution. )#( peggy tag tba. )#( HERE HAVE FUN WITH THIS IM DEAD INSIDE )

@balanceshifts | @nonstcp | @dcddysaid | @spcrited | @amcricanfailure

“Now, tell me again, and this time, do try not to bore me.”

#balanceshifts #nonstcp #dcddysaid #spcrited #amcricanfailure #starter #greeter #( GREETINGS FRIENDOS )

‘mr jefferson, so nice to see you, and who is this young lady?’ ‘ah yes this is... miss mojito schuyler’

#( 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗈 -- ooc. )#spcrited #( if yall thought i wasnt gon make cocktail jokes about peggy yall wrong )#( jefferson not remembering who peggy is is likely to become a running joke )#( im so sorry other kitty )

thomas: ‘i have the hots for all the schuyler sisters; angelica, eliza and--’ *looks at smudged writing on his hand* ‘poggle’

#( 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗈 -- ooc. )#spcrited #( im sORRY )

@spcrited ( reincarnation au. )

it’s at a charity event his dad is sponsoring ( essentially a ball, though no one calls them that anymore ) that jack remembers the wedding. the room goes double, and suddenly he’s seeing alexander and elizabeth get married, his best friend/lover looking the happiest he’d ever been while john had gulped down several glasses of champagne and tried to keep a happy demeanor. he remembers her — margarita schuyler, peggy, with her yellow dress that perfectly matched her constant excitement. they’d danced, they’d snuck off together, they’d talked. and then his mind returns to the charity gala, present day, eighteen years old and in the age of cars and cell phones, not of revolutions and balls. he jots the basics of the memory down in a note on his phone, and doesn’t think about it.

and then he sees her, months after he’d initially remembered her. he walks into the library ( has to get some books for homework, nothing unusual, ) and she’s right there, peggy schuyler sitting at a table as if she hasn’t just turned his world upside down — he hasn’t seen anyone else from before, if you don’t count in history books and museums. a thousand thoughts are running through his mind — he’s sure it’s her, as sure as he is that his memories are real, but what if she doesn’t remember? what if she doesn’t want to see him? jack’s trying hard to act natural, refusing to let his nerves get the best of him ; goes and picks a random book off a shelf before walking over to her little table, standing behind the chair across from her, tiny smile on his face. ❝ hey, p— uh. is this seat taken? ❞

#spcrited #ᵛ ;; ᵀᴬᴷᴱ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᵀᴵᴹᴱ⋅ —– ( reincarnation au. )#;; ʸᴼ ʸᴼ ʸᴼ⋅ —– ( starter. )#( YOOOO OK hopefully this is alright?? if you need me to change anything just lemme know !!! )#( also wow it got a lil long but no pressure to match my length ok its cool )