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i was never nothing

@hopeswanjones / hopeswanjones.tumblr.com

Anisa. Twenty Five. England. prev. swanshope I sometimes play around on photoshop and get far too attached to fictional characters. Emma Swan owns my heart. Forever crying over Captain Swan. Not here very often anymore. This is a hate free blog! var sc_project=10706678; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="bfae6c1f"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("<sc"+"ript type='text/javascript' src='" + scJsHost+ "statcounter.com/counter/counter.js'></"+"script>");
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bleebug

⚓️🦢It was the nature of their relationship that every moment together was fleeting––full of passion and longing, but always so painfully brief. She had a ship and a crew to see after, long journeys to lead them to treasures and victory over the navy of the usurper’s country. And he had his own duties, too, as a guardian of the sea goddess. Emma sometimes wondered if they were destined to be the sort of tragic, star-crossed lovers often told in sad stories. Still, whenever she traveled to new lands only to notice him off-shore, watching her, waiting for her to spare a moment, she never once thought to ignore him. No, she would rush to his side, undeterred by thorn-covered brush or hills of sharp rock, all for a smile or a kiss or the touch of his hand.

Someday, she thought, someday maybe she’d be his completely, and he hers.

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