create with your hands

Jack stays over at the Haus

sleeping in Bitty’s room because he can

in the middle of the night he gets up to go to the bathroom

now you have to imagine how tired Jack is after a roadie

so he leaves the bathroom, with just two thoughts on his mind

1- get back in room

2- cuddle with Bitty

he goes back to his old room.

Chowder’s yell woke up even the LAX bros on the other side of the street.

A Starless Night Ritual For Letting Go of Guilt, Whether Warranted or Not

You will need:

  • Candles or lamps in your home


After dark on a cloudy night.

The spell:

Outside, look up to where the stars would be, saying, “Stars, thought invisible this night, yet I know you shine your light. The clouds will clear, you will appear, and I will shed this guilt and fear.”

Move you hands in and out slowly, palms vertical and facing each other, and create an invisible energy ball from the power in your hands. Toss the energy ball up high and say, “Guilt be gone!”

Go indoors and light candles or turn on all the lamps, saying, “Like the stars I will shine again. No guilt remains, for peace I gain.”

- “1001 Spells: The Complete Book Of Spells For Every Purpose,” by Cassandra Eason

Peter Parker #2

A/N: I know I have been AWOL, my computer has been very stupid and annoying. Let me know what you guys think xox 


Number Request from Smut Prompt List.


“You’re n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you…?”                     “Are you trying to turn me on right now or are you really just that oblivious?”                                                                                                        “I-I just wasn’t expecting that. But I liked it. A lot.”

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I drew clouds
above my head
and colored them charcoal gray;
and full of terror
I let them follow me around
all day.
He came into the picture,
lifted my hand off the page;
blew a smoky fog
that covered up my past.
When the fog lifted up
the clouds were gone.
I asked
and why
and he replied “You lived too long in the misery
you created with your own two hands,
not realizing you had to just blow them away.”
“You can’t do that” I replied. “Can’t come in
and push my past aside, pretend it’s not there
following me around.”
“All it is, is a different view” he said “Here,
let me show you.” With the crayons firmly in his hand, he
drew my clouds back up,
colored them in white,
even added in the sun;
Oh how bright it shined!
for he showed me I can live
with clouds above me,
all I had to do
was change my view.

It’s okay to be slow when you’re making art.

So I kind of wanted to make a post about this.

I know some of you look around, and you see all these artists making such beautiful art in time spans of like an hour or a few hours, and then you look at your work and you get so demoralized because you’re taking so long.

I’m here to tell you that that’s perfectly okay. You’re not other artists. You are you, and your work defines you. If you need to take 10 hours, or even days to complete your art piece, it is okay, because it’s yours. You’re doing your best to make your art what you want it to be, and just because you can’t do it in a few hours like other artists do, it doesn’t make the value of your work any less. In fact, your patience and perseverance is absolutely admirable.

Take your time. You’re using your hands to create something that you love. Don’t let the people around you that you see hinder that in any way. You will definitely get faster in time, but if you give up now, thinking that you’ll always be this slow when you make art, you’ll never reach that stage. This applies not only to art, but also to other skills that you’re trying to pick up.

So look at what you yourself are doing, instead of looking around at others. Don’t worry too much, and enjoy yourself in the process of creation and learning! :)

I had once thought you held the stars in your eyes
I saw you through those pathetic rose tinted glasses, seeing only the good
Soft edges, rounded corners
Your eyes held a promise of something more than this world
Your hands created a pathway of sound to escape
But now, now I see clearly
With the glasses thrown to the ground
A mix of fragmented pieces and broken hearts
I see you as you are
I see the cruel creature, using and leaving people
I see the slimy, twisted depths of your mind
And how far you’re willing to go to fit into this freak show
The soft edges and rounded corners are instead sharp planes and jagged joints
The girl I once knew is no longer a girl
Maybe once she was,
But in her place
A monster has grown
Keep Going, It's Okay

Dear Angels,

I know this is the world you once protected from above, so, spread your wings, even if they can’t be seen and protect the ones you love. And even the ones you don’t, let them feel your holiness and calm.

Dear Gods,

I know it’s a little rough watching the world you created get destroyed, but you can always keep it in your hearts that you can create another, even with human hands.

Dear Demons,

I know you’re angry, and you want to unfurl your wings and bare your fangs, but that’s okay. Keep feeling everything your feeling and know you can walk with your head high despite it all.

Dear Faes,

I know it’s hard, and that sometimes you want to join arms and feel

different emotions, but dance the dances only you remember, let the music you were born with flood your senses and take you away.

Dear Galaxies,

Can you still feel the way the stardust washed over you? And how the other stars around you breathed? Remember that, it’ll make this life all worth while to know that you have experienced things no other human has.

Happy Birthday Woozi….you built the pledis building with your bare hands and created music from 1 stick, your left hip, and your genius brain…’ve lived through 3 wars and 10 economic collapses and have seen the creation and destruction of this world….I’d die for your Scorpio ass…..


❄  Series: Part 1 // Part 2

❄  Pairing: Jungkook x You x Yoongi

❄ Genre: (Soulmate!au // Hanahaki Disease!au)

❄ Word Count: 3.3k

Saudade;                                                                                                   The feeling of intense longing for a person or place you love but is now lost

The sky was a painting tonight.

You marveled at the beautiful twilight hues. Shades of violet bled into the indigo sky, creating bridges of colours you could only describe with the paintbrush in your hand, and the canvas in front of you. You mixed and created shades of pink, purple and blue you could not name. You paid no attention to that, art did not need a language; it was the expression of what words fail to communicate.

Art is an entity of its own.

Like you.

Many described you as wild – you were as wild as the winds that blew the curled red leaf in the air.

You watched the sun in front of you dip below the horizon like a candle being extinguished. You dipped your own brush into the paint and brushed it across the canvas, now adding the finishing strokes of cerise and amber.

You gave your painting a final look before setting down your paintbrush.

You huffed. In front of you was no match to what you saw a few minutes ago. You could never paint the splashes of colours you formed in the sky. The true and raw beauty of the sunset could never be captured. That is by you – a self-proclaimed artist.

It was rumoured that everyone has a different sky that is shared with their soulmate – except all celestial objects stay in the same position for everybody, so weather is not affected. Everyone has the ability to draw on the sky, making splash of colours or little notes for only them and their soulmate to see.

You shivered from the chilly winds as they ran across your skin. It was exhilarating as it was terrifying. You were currently situated at the rooftop of your art institution. Every evening, you came here and tried to create a somewhat decent painting of the evening sky. And every evening, you failed.

You mastered the skill of painting fruit baskets and fields of flowers. You could recreate the face of a person you had met for the first time with deadly precision. So why could you not paint something as simple as the sunset? Children could paint it. Hell, Kindergarteners could finger-paint the sunset, yet you couldn’t. Why?

Walking to the edge, you gripped the thin metal railing. It always amazed you at how fast the night changes. Now, as you looked at the early night sky, all traces of the colours had bled into one – a magnificent shade of midnight blue. The cold winds of nightfall pierced the thin layer of your shirt. You wrapped your hands around your body as you attempted to warm yourself. In vain, you rubbed your hands up and down each other until you felt a hint of warmth spread across your body.

The night held so many mysteries.

You turned around to wipe off the wet paint on your palette and you put it, along with your brush, into your bag. Slinging the back on your shoulder, you picked up your easel and walked to the room across from you. The room was small and mainly used for storage. Sometimes, you would find couples inside it. Those encounters never ended well.

You made a silent prayer in your head as you turned the brass door knob to the room. To your surprise, the light was already on. You could’ve sworn that you turned them off when you came to get the equipment. Hesitantly stepping inside, you put down the easel at the back of the room.

Whoosh, the door closed. The sound made you jump and you heard a deep chuckle come from beside you.

You let out a shriek as you made eye contact with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you shoved the boy in front of you, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“Oh Y/N! Y-you s-should’ve seen y-your face,” Jungkook tried to imitate your reaction before he doubled over with laughter once again. “Oh man, y-you looked s-so terrified,” he spluttered.

You felt a smile of your own forming before you crossed your arms together and bit your lip. You tried your best to stay mad at him. You never could, but you tried. Every time.

Jungkook’s  amber orbs blazed with the golden light of a summer evening. His eyes reminded you of a sunset – no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t manage to look away.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Jungkook waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped out of your trance and shifted your gaze from his face to the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Did I go too far? Do you want to hit me? You can hit me, just don’t hit my face. It’s the only thing I have going for me,” he offered you a comforting smile.

His smile alone was enough to make you feel better.

You shook your head and opened your mouth to speak, “Jungkook, just… don’t scare me like that ever again.”

He nodded and moved across the room. You thought he was going to leave until he walked back to you with a brown bag in his hands. Instantly, the smell of Tteokbokki hit your nostrils and you felt your mouth water a little. You hadn’t eaten since lunch. You reached out to take the bag when it was pulled away from your grasp.

Nuh uh,”Jungkook waggled his finger at you, “first, you have to show me your painting. You never show me your paintings of the sunset.”

“Um, no. There’s a reason why and that’s because they’re all trash. Absolute trash.”

“You’re being way too critical of yourself. Your paintings are never short of amazing.”

“But you haven’t seen these ones, that’s why you’re saying this.”

“Then show me,” Jungkook said.

You took a hold of both of his hands and looked up at him pleadingly

“Jungkook… please don’t make me.”

He huffed and looked away. You wondered what he was thinking about.

You heard the rustle of the paper bag as he handed it to you. “Thank you, kookie. I owe you one,” you said as you took a bite of the soft rice cake.

“Don’t thank me, I know you hadn’t had dinner so I brought you some food. It’s what friends are for,” he shrugged his shoulders as he reached for a rice cake.

You momentarily stopped chewing. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop in disappointment every time you heard that word.


The two of you walked out of the room and sat on the cold, concrete floor.

The night sky was a sharp contrast to the once melodic array of warm colours – it was now black as ink, the only light illuminating from the stars.

“Hey, Jungkook.“


“Remember the Twinkie on the bus? The one I gave you in second grade?”

“The one you found on the floor and gave me without telling me? Nice.”

You grinned and gave him a rice cake. “It never really fell on the floor. I made that part up.”

You couldn’t see his face but you could tell that he was smiling.

“Hey, Y/N”


“I-I think that I’m going to tell Hyojin that I love her,” he had mentioned out of the blue.

Your chest tightened, the same way it did when Jungkook first told you about his crush on your sister. You felt a tingling, itchy feeling clawing up your throat and stopping midway. It felt like a hairball that had been stuck, but you managed to swallow it down with some water. You sat still, vision blurring, and in that moment, you heard your heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Y/N, are you okay? You look like you’re –“

“I’m okay, Jungkook. I just choked a little on the rice cake when I tried to talk at the same time,” you lied, clutching the brown paper bag resting in your lap.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow but did not question further. “Well, what do you think I should do?”

“You should do what you feel is right.”

You couldn’t make out Jungkook’s face. You only saw the highlighted parts of his face as the moonlight shone down upon him.

“What do you think is right?”

“It doesn’t matt—“

What do you think is right?”

You sighed, “you really love her, don’t you?”

“With all my heart.“

“Maybe”, you said gently, “you’re trying too hard to hear it. Don’t say it yet.”

Jungkook’s face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. You saw his body go rigid, his mouth hung with lips slightly parted and his eyes were slightly widened at your statement. Slowly, the shock wore off of his face and was replaced with a gaze that felt like an act of violence – a glare to stop your heart. You heard him as he scoffed, “…unbelievable.”

You felt your temper rise at Jungkook’s audacity to scoff at you, “what? You asked for my opinion and so I gave you my opinion. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Jungkook laughed heartlessly, looking down at you as if you were a complete stranger. “I’m going to tell her,” he said with an air of finality and a tinge of annoyance directed towards you.

Instead of lowering your head you lifted it, a stony glare carved into your dark eyes. Anger blurred your sight but you tightened your jaw and glared at him, “and what am I supposed to do? Sit by while you date other girls and fall in love with someone else and get married?” Your voice tightened, “And meanwhile, I’ll die a little bit more every day, watching.”

Jungkook turned, but too slowly to be normal. When he spook his voice trailed slowly, like his words were unwilling to take flight. There was a sadness in his eyes, the brown too glossy, “Y/N, p-please, stop. Y-you’re just…jealous, just admit it,” you heard the slight hesitance in his words. “You know what, I’ll help you find someo—”

“Yes! I’ll admit, I am jealous. I’m jealous of every minute you spend with her, of every concerned expression you send her way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip her to pieces and purge her from your mind and from your heart. But I can’t.” before you could register what was happening, your brain made a decision of its own.

“Y/N, please don’t—“

Words flew from your mouth that you never thought you’d even think, let alone say out loud. You knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they’d hit their mark. In that instant, your relationship shattered into glassy shards. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“I love you,” you blurted out. “I-I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

Jungkook shot up, his tall stature looming over your own. You stood up beside him, with your arms crossed and your eyes locked on him. It takes him a while to realize that you weren’t joking. You got up on your feet, standing a few inches away from him. "J-Jungkook?” you placed your hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him. Jungkook shoved your hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” Just a few words, but they brought tears to your eyes. You never thought this was how it would feel to have your heart broken.

“Jungkook, please. Don’t do this.” You pleaded him as you covered your face with your hands and wiping away your tears.

Oh no! I’m not doing anything here. I told you not to say it and yet you still said it.” Jungkook was now shouting at you.

“I’m sorry,” you sounded like you were choking on your tears. You never could keep your emotions under control; you couldn’t fight away the tears. You stepped forward, trying to reach out to him. Jungkook put his hands in front of him, halting you from taking another step.

“I said don’t touch me,” Jungkook’s voice cracked. Under the moonlight, you could see that his cheeks reflected your own tear-stained ones.

You didn’t try to get closer to him again. You sat down and tucked your knees to your chest, putting your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your hands, then started to breathe slowly.

Silence gnawed at your insides. It hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. You needed to fill the void with sounds, words, anything. The silence was poisonous in its nothingness, cruelly underscoring how vapid your conversation had become – it clung to you two like a poisonous cloud that at any moment could choke the life from them.

You couldn’t stand the deafening silence anymore. “Jungkook,” you whispered, not daring to look at the face in front of you. “I-I love you and I can’t stop loving you. You overtake my affections and leave my heart in shattered disarray of pieces. Every single time you steal a part of me, you make it impossible for me to put myself together. I know you can never love me and yet I always delude myself in the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, you’ll learn to love me back. Why is that? Perhaps I hope that you return what you’ve stolen. You never do. You smile, and it’s intoxicating. Your fingers brush through my hair, and it’s addicting. You laugh, and it’s contagious. You and your flirtatious self. But I know, and you know that you could never — would never return the love I shared with you.”

“You love Hyojin,“ you continued for him. "I know. Y-you’re in love with…her,” the bitter taste of those words lingered on your tongue.

Your eyes met his warm brown ones. “Yes,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “It’s her. It’s always been her.”

Jungkook’s words fell out of his mouth like vapour but landed in your guts as shrapnel. You felt your insides tear, and the blood drain from your face. You would have laughed but he was dead serious. His eyes were cold like you’d never seen and his features immobile. He handed back the painting you gave him just yesterday and you let it fall as soon as its weight had hit your palm. There was the mute sound of paper on cement but neither of you moved to pick it up. You were trying to understand the words he told you but you couldn’t. Then he turned to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before you knew what you were doing you were standing in his way and locked eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shook his head. You could see your pain mirrored in his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry that I love you, Jungkook,” you said through your tears.

“Y/N, please. Let me go.”

“I can’t – not like this. Let’s talk about this. Please.”

There isn’t anything to talk about.”

Jungkook’s eyes were trained on some invisible specter behind you. His heavy eyelids took a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute. You moved into his line of sight, touching his cheek with the side of your thumb, your lips forming a pensive grin. Jungkook’s head tilted upward to your face, his eyes sliding into focus. Your voice came out in a breathy whisper, “can I just have one kiss?”

Jungkook made no motion to move and so, you leaned in. all of your senses were screaming at you to pull back, to step away from Jungkook – your sister’s boyfriend. And yet, you couldn’t. You knew he didn’t love him back, but you couldn’t resist. You leaned in a little closer, your foreheads touching. Dear god, you couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through you. His very smell was flooding his senses now.

“No!” he seemed to snap out from whatever trance he was previously in. “No, I thought you were my friend,” Jungkook yelled. He pulled himself away from you as if he touched a hot coal. Jungkook turned around and made a mad dash towards the exit.

“Wait! Jungkook,” you called after him. “Please,” you closed your eyes, pleading.

He didn’t.

Why is “lovemaking” restricted to intimate coition?

Why isn’t lovemaking used for everything made with love?

Why isn’t writing known as lovemaking, or cooking?

Why isn’t the way your body moves to music known as lovemaking?

Why isn’t sculpting, or woodwork, or something you create with your bareknuckled hands known as lovemaking? 

And why do we allow ourselves to be restricted with its use?

nirvana (m)

Originally posted by hurrydownthe-jiminie-tonight


summary: the need for something that isn’t yours, yet all jungkook wanted to do was take and you willingly gave him everything and anything.

rated m for mature themes. word count: 959 (preview)

It began how it often did a soft brush of lips and suddenly he has you on your back dazed with a lust lidded gaze. Always eager yet the firm grip he has on your thighs shows he is calm and controlled. Above all Jungkook enjoys to take his time, skimming his hands over your subtle flesh with the occasional squeeze and scrape of his nails just to see how far he can have you arching up off the bed.

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Anger Issues

“Can you do a Loki smut? After he gets mad cause he saw one of the guards flirt you?”


Sitting around watching Loki create his mischievous plans wasn’t your ideal date night. You sighed slouching onto the chair you sat on, taking a strand of your hair in between your fingers twirling it. What was worse that there was four inhumanly tall men shielding you. You would never get used to the royal treatment. You were just a girl from Y/H/T, never in your whole life you thought you’d be dating a god.

One of the guards shifted their heads towards you, seeing the word ‘Boredom’ written across your face; making them let out a chuckle. Which made you huff in response. Using both your hands and slapping them onto your thighs, creating all the guards that surrounded you; make their attention go towards you. You rolled your eyes on how responsive they word to every noise. “Well I’m gonna go get some water.” Grunting as you lifted yourself from the chair – that made your ass numb for sitting there for an hour. “You are in so position to walk around alone here my dear.” Said a low husky voice, shifted your head you saw it was one of the guards speaking to you. He had these dark chocolate eyes, dirty blond hair; skin having a sun kissed tan. “Well, alright, whatever. Your orders are orders.” You plainly replied. With your response a smirk appeared onto his lips. “Lead the way Ms. Y/L/N.” And you did so. As you walked out of the room, with the guard following behind; you felt a pair of eyes burning on the back of your head. Turning to see what was making feel uncomfortable, it was Loki. Jaw clenching, knuckles griping the table roughly; his knuckles where white. Oh no. You knew this wasn’t good. You kept your attention towards him till you disappeared from his view. Your heart was thumping fast, like a jackrabbits. Your palms were getting sweaty, knowing it wasn’t good to get onto Loki’s bad side. Not so fun seeing him mad.

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Yuanfen - Part 8

Characters - Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Tesla and Steve as well as a few others

Word Count - 2116

Warnings - Fluff? Bucky being the cutest, Almost smut, Language

A/N - HOOBOY. That’s all I’m gonna say. Please dont hesitant to tell me what you think! This is an AU. 缘分 (Yuanfen) is a Chinese word that has no direct English translation and (roughly) means “A relationship that is brought together by a force such as destiny or fate.“

Yuanfen Masterlist

“What are you saying?” You eyed him suspiciously as he let your fingers slip from his grasp.

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maybe my favorite thing about twenty one pilots is tyler’s brutal honesty and the cathartic way he uses music. i’m in love with the way he uses music to lure the demons out of his head and then puts his darkest thoughts on display just to prove to the broken that they’re not alone. it’s beautiful the way he bleeds in his songs. to be an artist is to be completely vulnerable, and i don’t think i understood the power and importance of this vulnerability until i found twenty one pilots. creating art is looking someone in the eyes, offering them your shaking hand and inviting them into your head. it’s an uncomfortable and terrifying thing to do, and the way tyler so willingly opens himself up to the world blows me away. he puts his entire being into his music and because of his ability to do so has shown a bunch of broken people that they’re not alone. he’s made the hopeless believe that they will find meaning in their lives. he’s sung the sleepless to sleep on their worst nights. he’s saved more lives than i can possibly imagine.

tyler joseph is an inspiration to say the least.

I’m angry and I’m on the verge of tears and I don’t know what words are use to describe this.

We all thought quicksand would be a bigger problem as adults, and it is. That quicksand is your feelings. My feelings. Her feelings, His feelings.

You think you’re about to continue waking on steady beautifully understandable ground and then…. sinking. The faster you struggle, the more it pulls you down.

Stay calm. A part of you, once the most powerful, whispers as panic floods you.

I heard once, that if you start to make room for your limbs, slowly spinning them, first your toes, then feet, then legs… same with your fingers, hands and arms, you create space that has seemingly been taken away from you. The better to escape.

What if I had made small little swirling sensations while your feelings started to drag me down. What if I create space around my hands, and my heart while you were just doing what you were made to do?

What if I started as soon as it reached my ankles, instead of when I did. I waited til your feelings were as strong as hands around my neck. Crushing into the spaces, that, when you pressed your lips against I would melt, instead like the angry hands of a jealous and abusive lover. 

Your feelings were jealous. They were erratic and abusive and they sucked me in, because on the surface it just looked like more land, unchartered in my favorite climate. Instead it was the pit of despair which I escaped and you never truly understood. Instead, just leaving me to drown in that quick quick sand. 

I like to imagine Bull and Dorian alone in their tent, weeks into some expedition in the Hissing Wastes or any other place - away from their luxuries and normal hygiene and perfumes and most importantly, maybe, mirrors. Dorian completely trusting as he lets Bull put on his kohl for him, lining his silver eyes perfectly, waxing his mustache just so and sealing the fine dusting of powder on his eyelids with a kiss.

(and if bull applies a wing to his liner far more flawless than dorian ever could do it himself, nobody mentions it)

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips on writing really great mutual pining? It's a pretty big part of my next fic but I can't seem to get the emotions across in my writing ;-;

Plotting Great Romance

While “pining” implies an almost lack of romance, I still think the same goals of writing a great romance apply. You develop each of the two characters separately, and you develop a basic story for each of them separately, and then you see what happens when you bring them together. Think of it like clapping - each hand is capable of accomplishing a lot on its own, but when you slap your hands together, it creates a unique sound that one hand cannot produce on its own.

You could plot out the scenes/tension/suspense between them before developing each individual character, but I think it can be more challenging that way. So I would try to imagine the backstory, the characteristics, the wants, the needs, the goals, the motivations, the quirks, the interests…figure out who each of these characters is first.

Once you have that, you can start to think about how each character affects the other. What new characteristics do each bring out in the other? Are they good or bad? What ways do they challenge each other? What impact does each one have in the other’s life? Don’t think in terms of romance at this point. Just imagine your characters together, and imagine them separately. What’s the difference? What aspects of their personality do they suppress around the other and which ones do they set free?

Then, consider what qualities they each admire in the other. Why does each of them like being around the other? And counterpoint - what things frustrate them about the other?

When it comes to pining…

…make the reasons behind their unrequited romance good. A reader can quickly get frustrated by two characters who are simply too shy to admit their true feelings, or too naive to recognize chemistry and affection that is obviously mutual.  This is easier than you think. Imagine what obstacles a relationship between them might have, and then have your character foresee this obstacle as too troublesome to deal with.

For example, in a Romeo/Juliet type storyline, two characters might pine for the other but fail to act on their feelings due to family expectations. An artist might never pursue art because their parents expect them to be a doctor, just like a person may not pursue another romantically because their parents wouldn’t approve. 

Geography might be another potential obstacle. Two characters that meet unexpectedly while on vacation may hit it off, but knowing they each live on separate coastlines, they anticipate a stressful long-distance relationship and hold back on confessing feelings. 

An existing relationship is a big one - a character might not feel fully committed to their current partner, but their partner has never treated them poorly and for all intents and purpose, they seem perfect for each other. So they hold back feelings for another person because they don’t want to hurt the person they’re currently with, who they do still care about deeply. Their life might also be comfortable with this person, or even well established, with a nice home and kids, and not wanting to hurt your children with a divorce is a big reason someone might hold back on feelings for someone else. 

Basically, you need to consider what is stopping each character from confessing their feelings. Fear of rejection is implied - there needs to be more than that in order to carry mutual pining for an entire novel. There need to be other obstacles, and they need to be ones that your characters can predict, and ones they care about. 

Let me put it much more simply. Instead of each character asking, “What if they don’t love me back?” have them ask, “What if they do love me back?” And consider what the answer to that question is. Once these feelings are requited, what are the consequences?  What is each character afraid of? 

So I think that would be my biggest suggestion - make their hesitations be about more than rejection. And when it comes to describing their emotions, don’t try too hard. Tell your story, and see what emotions naturally unfold. We convey emotion by putting ourselves into the shoes of our characters and imagining how it might make us feel. I think once you have the story well plotted and the characters well developed, it’ll become easier to describe what each of them is feeling. 

Good luck!