i love the hanahaki disease au thing so much like. its just such an aesthetically pleasing concept that fits the like… shape of unrequited love, the nameless way it occupies you. flowers growing from your lungs, thorns in your throat, coughing up sweet smelling petals and hiding them in your pocket. being so deeply in love you spit out blossoms in the dead of night, white and yellow and splattered in red. choking on your love as it curls it’s leaves into the depth of you. call me corny but that’s so helplessly dramatic and pretty and just rife with tragedy. love it.