𝖡ᥣ𝗈𝗈ო'ડ ᑲɑડ౿ო౿𐓣𝗍 ♡♡ [DISCONTINUED]

𝖡౿ɑɕ𝗁

The sun beat down on the beach, turning the sand into a shimmering, almost liquid surface. The air vibrated with the sounds of laughing children, crashing waves, and the occasional squawk of a seagull. In the midst of this joyous chaos Dyso, Divided, and Bloom were creating chaos of their own.

Dyso was already halfway into a sandcastle that resembled a particularly aggressive war machine. Bloom was attempting to teach a crab how to tango. Divided, however, was sprawled out on a beach towel, his eyes closed, listening to the rhythmic crash of the waves. His face, normally etched with a constant, light-hearted smirk, was relaxed, a rare sight for the perpetually energetic trio.

“He’s snoring,” Dyso announced, his voice echoing through the air, “Div’s snoring like a walrus with a cold.”

Bloom let out a whoop of laughter, his belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly. “He’s probably dreaming about his parents existing,” he said, gesturing towards Divided's thick, white shirt. Seriously? On the beach?

“He probably dreams about a world where he has to do less than three activities every day,” Dyso said, his voice dripping with mock-sympathy.

“He’s probably dreaming about a world where he doesn’t have to play ‘bury the friend’ every time we come to the beach,” Bloom added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Dyso’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that gives me an idea,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Before Divided could even register what was happening, they were upon him. Dyso, fueled by a potent blend of mischief and adrenaline, grabbed handfuls of sand and started to fling them towards Divided. Bloom joined in, creating a mini-sandstorm around the unsuspecting friend.

“Hey! What the…” Divided’s voice was muffled by the sand raining down upon him.

“It’s time for ‘bury the friend’!” Dyso announced, his voice echoing over the waves.

Divided, finally regaining his voice, began a string of expletives that would have made sailors blush. “You’re going to get sand in your hair, Dyso! You’re going to get sand in your…everything!”

Despite his protests, they continued their onslaught, pushing, pulling, and shoving him deeper into the sand. They buried him up to his neck, leaving only his head poking out, a sand-covered monument to their chaotic friendship.

“How do you even breathe with all that sand on your face?” Dyso asked, his voice full of mock concern.

“It’s hard to breathe when you’re laughing so hard,” Bloom replied, doubled over with laughter.

Divided, unable to contain his mirth, let out a hearty guffaw. “You guys are dumbasses! Do you have any idea how itchy sand is?!”

They continued their playful torture for a while, taking turns piling more sand on top of him. Each time Divided tried to wriggle free, they would push him back down, their laughter ringing out like a joyous chorus.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they allowed him to break free. Covered in sand from head to toe, he looked like a walking, talking sandcastle.

“Next time, I’m burying you,” he declared, his voice hoarse from laughing.

“Oh, you think you’re going to manage that?” Dyso challenged, a twinkle in his eye.

“We’ll see,” Divided said with a grin, a challenge in his eyes.