#he was a dutch rabbit and his name was Fluffy and I loved him very very much

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt.1 here | pt.2 here | pt.3 | pt.4 here

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,493.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!”

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[quirkle2]

my son has returned!1!!1!

[heavyonthecost]

fatamoru snippets dump #3

Partly Erasmus/7C, partly Reincarnation spoilers. (Still all Yukipauline, because goddammit this trainwreck of a pairing has eaten my brain.)

(#1, #2)

(content notes: spoilers for Mujou no Erasmus, Seventh Coat, and Reincarnation. Also last one’s kinda violent.)

(Prompt: GRADUALLY WATERMELON, 100 words, based on Mujou no Erasmus. If anyone’s wondering about the spelling of his name, it’s because it’s supposedly short for the Dutch word for ‘little rabbit’ (konintje))

I can handle the texture for just one slice, Nijn thought when Pauline first offered him a slice.

I prefer cantaloupes, he thought when she brought more the next day.

If she wants me to, he thought as he went through a whole plate she brought him.

And now, his father’s cutting up a whole watermelon for them.

“You like watermelons, right, Nijn? You two have been eating a lot of them lately.”

Nijntje isn’t his actual name, and he doesn’t like watermelons, but if she says so, he has to make it so. For his family.

“Yes, I do.”

(Prompt: keeping secrets,400 words, based on Seventh Coat)

In the darkness and silence of her apartment, she sat in front of him, staring straight at him. Just a few days ago, she wouldn’t have thought that she’d be helping a serial killer hide from justice, and in a way none of it felt real, still - the person in front of her is undoubtedly her childhood friend, the same person she’d come to love, and the whole time, a part of her was hoping that he’d reveal that all of it was just a prank, that he hadn’t actually committed all those murders. But every time she tried to make a joke about it, he only stared back at her in silence, never saying that yes, he was lying, leaving her to awkwardly laugh it off while looking anywhere except at him.

So maybe, it was time to stop denying it.

”What did you feel when you killed all those people?”

She could see his eyebrows rising. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” ‘Because I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about’ didn’t seem like it’d cut it. “You’ve admitted what you’ve been doing to me anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to also know about that, right?”

“It would. People like you aren’t supposed to get it.”

“But I want to understand you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

And on his face was the same pained expression from the first night she offered to hide him, when she confessed her feelings to him despite what he’d admitted. In a way, it filled her with relief - that he seemed guilty about letting her fall for the fake persona he cultivated surely meant that some part of him was still capable of caring about others.

She dragged her chair forward. She was scared, too, of what his answer would be - of whatever force there is that would drive someone to commit such atrocities. Yet she still felt drawn to him, which she probably shouldn’t, but if it were that easy to make herself stop caring about him, she’d have done it right after he confessed all his wrongdoings.

“I’ve gotten myself this deep in now, we’re basically in this together now.”

“That’s not -”

She jutted forward, her face barely inches from his, not giving him a chance to continue his protests. Her hands were shaking but she had to, wanted to know. “Let’s not hide anything from each other anymore, shall we?”

(Prompt: something fluffy, 500 words, based on Seventh Coat)

“Good morning, Pauline.”

Rubbing her eyes, Pauline surveyed the dimness of her apartment, barely lit by the thin rays of sunlight filtering through the almost fully-closed blinds. Near the dining table was the person greeting her just now, the very reason her apartment was so closed-off. And on the table -

“What are you doing?” She only just managed to suppress her voice from a shout to a whisper.

“I made breakfast.”

“I can see that.” On the table was a plate with a few pieces of pancakes, topped with honey and fruits - she remembered having a little left of those in the fridge. “But didn’t we agree not to do anything unnecessary -”

“I made sure the blinds were open as little as possible. Anyone who hears anything would just think that it’s you.” After a pause, “I thought I should do something for you in return.”

Do something in return. If she had simply been letting him stay at her place as a guest, it’d have been nothing out of the ordinary. She would be able to cheerfully thank him for it, coo at how neatly he had arranged the food, mention how excited she was to be eating his cooking again. Not so much when he was also wanted for multiple counts of murder.

There are other things I’d rather you do for me instead, she thought. She was past doubting this man’s admission of his actions, but maybe he could tell her that he was just an impostor, the real Yukimasa was somewhere out there, still his old slightly aloof but not unkind self that she’d always known, not some cold-blooded killer -

Even as her mind spun up unreasonable wishes, she sat down at the table and grabbed the utensils laid out. At least, she didn’t want to waste the food. Her fork sunk right into the stack, and her knife cut through it just as easily.

She brought a piece to her mouth, chewing through the soft, fluffy texture. It was good. She wanted to savour it, but her mind went back to the hands that had created it, the same hands behind those gruesome images plastered all over the news -

“Pauline?”

She had stabbed the table with her fork, and he had rushed to her side, concern audible in his voice. She wanted to scream, ask him why couldn’t he have spared the same amount of concern for those other people, why couldn’t he have simply not killed them so she could just enjoy being with him like this - and she immediately hated herself for coming up with such selfish reasons for condemning him.

“...I need a moment.”

She continued hanging her head, panting heavily despite only sitting still, until she could hear him shuffling away into her room. She didn’t particularly had any more appetite, but she still cut off misshapen pieces from the pancakes and stuffed her mouth full of those soft, sweet chunks, pretending that was why it was getting hard to breathe.

(Prompt: nightmares, 100 words)

Before, his dreams were the only place  where Yukimasa could fully indulge his desires, but now, even those dreams brought him distress. He wasn’t supposed to kill anyone else, he promised she’d be his first and last -

He jolted up, breathless, and next to him, Pauline also stirred awake.

“Those dreams again?”

His hand brushed her neck, still so slender and fragile, and the caresses changed into a light grip.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

Her voice, soft and calm, brought him back to their idyllic days together, and he replaced his hand with a kiss.

“Not yet.”

(Prompt: unrequited love, 100 words)

Sometimes, Pauline missed the way Yukimasa used to smile gently at her, whispering sweet nothings. But she’d recall that it was all an act - he had never loved her the way she loved him, and likely never would.

She regretted none of her decisions. He no longer hid anything from her, and she no longer turned a blind eye to the truth. She still got to stay by him, more important than anyone else to him, anchoring him to the more benevolent of his desires.

It was a chain that bound her. But it was one she chose for herself.

(Prompt: your id, 600 words. Contains knifing and blood-licking.)

When he came in carrying a knife, she knew it was finally time. Sooner than she expected, perhaps, but she had agreed to this arrangement prepared for it to end at any time. She said nothing as he lifted her shirt and put the knife against her stomach. The sting from the edge cutting in morphed into a sharper pain when he swiped the knife across her skin, and she reflexively let out a short shriek. He drew the knife across her stomach again, this time drawing a groan from her, and she could see a glimpse of that smile she saw through her hazy consciousness on that day he choked her.

It hurt. Of course it did. But she was the one who agreed to be the target of his urges should they become uncontrollable for him. And perhaps she wasn’t supposed to think this way, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, seeing him be able to do what truly pleased him - even if it involved spilling her blood.

She felt the tip of the blade lodged into another patch of skin on her torso and winced as he twisted the blade, gradually screaming as she became unable to hold back her voice. Twisting the knife back to its original position, he raised it up high and she closed her eyes, waiting for it to sink into her flesh. But it never came - instead, it was his lips pressed onto the first cut he created, and she hissed from the sting brought by his tongue running over the wound.

Done lapping up her blood, he wiped off his mouth and looked down at her body. She supposed he wanted to savour every bit of it, taking his time shedding her blood before he finally killed her - it was to be his first and last murder, after all. But he hadn’t retrieved his knife yet, still hovering over her with his breathing as rough as hers. “Pauline,” he said, his face right above hers, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes widened at the words that she didn’t expect to hear any more since she asked him to stop pretending in front of her. “Aren’t you just excited to see the blood?”

His eyes scanned her wounds again. “It feels different from the last time I beat up someone until they bleed.”

“Maybe you just forgot because it’s been so long since you’ve seen this much of someone else’s blood.”

He bent down and kissed her, the taste of her own blood still faintly in his mouth, and his hand crept across her stomach, sending shivers and jolts of pain all over her body as his fingers traced the wounds.

“I never thought of wanting to do this with anyone I used to beat up.”

She wasn’t sure what to feel - happiness that her feelings were finally requited? Sadness that it couldn’t have happened sooner? Confusion, because why now after all this time? So she just laughed. “What are you doing, falling for me now? Can you really kill me when you’re like that?”

He went silent, his expression as blank as usual. Then, “Wait here.” He got up to leave the room, and when he came back, he held a first aid box in his hands.

“Wait - so you seriously can’t kill me anymore? Are you going to be fine? You know I’m not letting you kill anyone else, right?”

“I’m just delaying it,” he said as he unpacked the contents of the box. “I know I said that I’ll only touch you when it’s time to end everything, but… right now, all I can think of is that if I kill you now, I can’t see you bleeding like this again.”

“Eh...”

Focusing on cleaning her wounds, he said, “If your offer of hurting you in the meanwhile still stands… I’ll take you up on it.”

Through the stinging pain, she managed a wide smile. “You finally took up one of my suggestions!”

He frowned. “Is it something to be so happy about? You really are a strange woman.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “I wouldn’t be in love with such a strange man if I weren’t.”

[caleighmiller]

Happy Sunday and happy #spiritualsunday!!! Today started off as a very depressing day because my sweet Dutch Bunny, Max, died and went to heaven. I am so heartbroken about that. Well..things turned around for the good! God really is watching over me and continuing to bless me! Guess what happened within a couple hours after Dutch Bunny Max died! My amazing and sweet friend Ann Marie messaged me and said she was coming home from a rabbit show with a cute Holland Lop boy she needed to give away. And I needed a new bunny to love as much as Dutch Bunny Max so she said I can definitely have him. It was truly a Godly miracle! What a great thing to happen this Spiritual, Godly Sunday! I was lucky enough to be able to even get him this evening as soon as she came home! I have been blessed with my new Holland Lop bunny who I named Fluffy Max. His name is still Max because I can’t have a girl bunny named Ruby without having a boy bunny named Max! He is a little over 1 year old. And he truly is my miracle bunny. I will love him just as much as I did with Dutch Bunny Max. Thank you, God and Ann Marie, for helping mend my broken heart and boosting my spirits and bringing a smile back to my face and helping me feel better! I am absolutely in love with Fluffy Max. Awww, I am so grateful!!! :) #sunday #happysunday #bunnies #ilovebunnies #bunniesofinstagram #hollandlop #maxandruby #fluffy #grateful #miracles #miraclesfromheaven #God #present #cuteness #cutenessoverload #animaltherapy #warrior #anxiety #depression #crohns #gastritis #gastroparesis #spoonie #cute #adorable #love 😊😄🐰🐇✝️🙏🏻😍💙💖 https://www.instagram.com/p/B3S0CAVgnGK/?igshid=157qrj048xqvc