the april 2010 volcanic eruptions in eyjafjallajokull, iceland (previously featured). known as a dirty thunderstorm, this phenomenon is yet to be explained by science, as the source of the lightning (or the specific mechanism by which particles of differing charges are separated in the ash cloud) continues to be debated.
see also the sakurajima and puyehue eruptions. photos by skarphedinn thrainsson, gunnar gestur geirmundsson, sigurdur hrafn stefnisson, lukas jackson and ragnar th sigurdsson.
“Are you sure that it won’t hurt?” Hinata asks, voice quiet and nervous when Kageyama presses their foreheads together, fingertips running over Hinata’s cheeks. It’s just a kiss, but his heart beats like a hurricane. He has never kissed anyone, but this is Kageyama. This is Hinata’s moon, his shadow, his setter.
“You spike my tosses with closed eyes,” Kageyama whispers against his mouth, breath warm and gentle. “Can you trust me like that now?”
Hinata can, and he does. Kageyama’s kiss is slow and his lips are shaking, fingertips singing like fire on Hinata’s skin where he touches him.
Hinata’s eyes are closed. Kageyama always lets him soar.
“Do you think I’m pretty, Iwa-chan?”
“I – what the fuck?”
It’s unbelievable, how easily Oikawa still leaves him speechless even after years of friendship and four tentative months of kissing and holding hands. Hajime sighs, shutting his book and pulling his reading glasses off. Oikawa hasn’t said anything for an hour while staying quiet and curled up against Hajime’s waist, and that should’ve rang all alarms already. Hajime touches his hair, nuzzles his lips into the crown of it. “Why the hell do you think you even need to ask that?”
Oikawa doesn’t look at him. He presses his face into the curve of Hajime’s neck, fingers searching for Hajime’s hands to hide inside his grip. His shoulders shiver, and there’s a dark, sharp sting in Hajime’s chest. “Oikawa?” He asks. And then, softer, sliding his warm hands between his boyfriend’s shoulders blades, his small fragile wings – “Tooru. What’s wrong?”
“I’m not a girl.” Oikawa says, quiet. “I’m not pretty, am I? And before me – you’ve only kissed girls. You like girls. I’m the only guy you’ve ever… and I’m not soft and petite, I’m taller than you.”
“Okay, you need to shut the fuck up.” Hajime pulls him up, right into his lap, and guides Tooru by his neck, down, down, making their foreheads touch and his lips press softly against his boyfriend’s. Tooru makes a sweet noise, giving Hajime the gorgeous sight of his dark lashes fluttering shut, red dawning on his high cheekbones. Hajime slides his thumb over Tooru’s mouth and whispers, almost inaudible, into the gap of Tooru’s lips and his own heart:
“Pretty isn’t the right word. You’re not a girl, won’t ever be, and I like that. You’re just – just you. And I’ve fallen so fuckin’ much for you that you take my breath and my mind and my – my goddamn soul, okay, you take all of me and tear me apart with how beautiful you are.”
Hajime doesn’t let Tooru cry afterwards. Instead, he kisses him until his own mouth tastes sweet and raw like Tooru, and rests his hands on the slender ivory of his ribcage, below his heart.
To Hinata’s credit, he certainly learned from ‘distracting’ Kageyama midway through practice :3c
“Kageyama, I’m trying to do my homework here. Stop staring at me, it’s scary.”
“Shut up, I’m not scary. That’s just my face. And I wasn’t staring at you, I was staring at your lips.”
“Why would you do that?”
“…have you ever kissed anyone, Hinata?”
“What?! No! Why – hey, if you wanna make fun of me just because I haven’t kissed anyone, cut it out! Wanna fight? Just – just because I don’t have girls come to me and confess all the time, just because – “
“You’re an idiot. I haven’t… either. Kissed someone. But I think I wanna.”
“…well why don’t you, then. Won’t be hard with all those swooning girls.”
“Jesus Christ, did you receive so many volleyballs with your head that you got no brain left? You’re so fucking dense! Alright, I’m done. Get over here – stop moving, Hinata, I swear to – “
“I’m not – mhmphh. …Kageyama? Did you just – that was – oh. A k-kiss…?“
“…looking at someone’s lips means you wanna kiss them. Daichi told me. Was – was it bad? I’m sorry, but you’re just such a dumbass sometimes – !”
“Shut up! And I didn’t say it was bad. But you should do it again. Just so I can make sure.”
“Y-yeah. To make sure, ‘f course. Now c’mere, I wanna – mhm. Yeah. That.”
Moami 