#jonathan henderson

[formlines]

Octopus Drum

Jomathan Henderson

[kristinhenderson]

Kris eased the car into a parking spot like she wasn’t absolutely vibrating with secrets, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming against it like it owed her money. The restaurant glowed warm through the windshield—string lights, clinking glasses, the illusion of a calm, normal dinner. Lies. All of it. She cut the engine and glanced over at Jon, casual as she could manage. “Alright,” she said, unbuckling, voice light, rehearsed. “One quiet dinner, decent drinks, and no one pages us from the hospital; just you, me, and good food. I’m setting expectations early.” A beat. She smiled at him—soft, fond, a little proud in that older-sister way she wore like armor. “You ready, Chief?” @immcrtalsx @hxrricvnes & @mcnstercus

[alectronathegoddess]

Alec sat cross-legged in the middle of their living room, the coffee table buried beneath color swatches, menus, and what felt like a never-ending pile of lists. She held up two nearly identical champagne-gold ribbons, squinting like she was deciding the fate of nations. “Okay,” she groaned, tossing them both down, “if I stare at one more shade of gold, I’m eloping with you in Vegas. Elvis can officiate, glitter tux and all.” Her gaze lifted to where Jon lounged on the couch, a smirk tugging at her lips despite her mock-threat. “Unless,” she drawled, crawling across the mess toward him, “you can think of a better… distraction. Something that reminds me why we’re doing all this in the first place.” She braced her hands on the cushions on either side of him, leaning in close, eyes sparking. “So. Champagne ribbon? Or me on your lap? Choose wisely.” @immcrtalsx

[formlines]

The Wild Man of the Woods Mask

Jonathan Henderson

[formlines]

Stellar's Jay Cradle Rattle

Jonathan Henderson

[formlines]

Frog Cradle Rattle

Jonathan Henderson

[alectronathegoddess]

Morning light spilled across the kitchen floor in warm stripes, the kind that made the whole house feel slow and safe. Alec moved through it like she always did: quick, efficient, unstoppable. One hand braced instinctively against the underside of her stomach as she wiped down the counter with the other, humming under her breath. The twins shifted inside her, a pair of quiet reminders that she probably shouldn’t be moving quite this fast anymore. She ignored that reminder like she ignored most things that suggested she slow down. “Fee, sweetheart, toys off the—” Her foot caught something small and plastic before she could finish the sentence. The world lurched. For a split second there was nothing but that awful, stomach-dropping tilt and the instinctive, desperate curl of her body as she tried to shield her belly. She hit the floor hard, breath punching out of her lungs. “Mommy!” Felicity’s little voice rang sharp with panic. Alec laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, lungs working to remember their job. Pain radiated up her back, but the first thing she did—always—was press both hands protectively to the curve of her stomach. Movement. Two small, stubborn kicks answered her. “Okay,” she breathed out shakily, looking over at her 4 year old. “Okay, we’re okay.” Felicity scrambled over, tiny hands tapping at Alec’s arm with fierce determination. “Mommy fall,” she declared seriously. “Yeah,” Alec huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Mommy fell.” With a combination of awkward maneuvering and Felicity’s extremely enthusiastic “help”, Alec eventually hauled herself upright, brushing it off the way she brushed off most things. She told herself she felt fine. And for a while, she did. Hours later, the house felt different. Too quiet. Alec stood at the kitchen counter again, one hand braced against it, the other pressed low against her stomach. Something felt… wrong. Not pain exactly, not at first. Just a deep, tightening pressure that made her breath come shorter than it should. Then a sudden, intensely sharp pain in her stomach. “Okay,” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic. She forced herself to take a steadying inhale as she placed her hand on her belly. It felt firm. “Okay, just sit down.” But the dizziness hit before she could. The room tilted violently, edges blurring as a wave of nausea rolled through her. Her knees buckled, catching the edge of the counter before she slid down the cabinet slowly, breath coming shallow now. “Fee,” Alec called, trying to keep her voice calm. “Baby, bring Mommy the phone.” Felicity toddled over obediently, placing the phone in her hands like it was the most important mission in the world. Alec’s fingers trembled as she tried to dial 911. Blood was spilling through her pants. The lightheadedness started to take over. Her vision darkened around the edges before she could type in the digits. “Stay… right here, okay?” she managed weakly. She keep her tone calm, not to scare the little girl again today, but her voice already fading. “Mommy just needs—” The phone slipped from her hand. And the world went black.

“Mommy?” Felicity knelt beside her again, exactly the way she had that morning. Small hands tapped Alec’s arm. “Mommy get up.” Nothing. Her brow scrunched in the serious little frown she wore when she was thinking very hard. Mommy fell again. So Felicity did the only thing she knew to do. She picked up the phone. Tiny fingers pressed the buttons the way she’d been shown before. “Hello?” a calm voice answered. “My mommy fell. Can you help me get her up?” Felicity said into the receiver, voice small but determined.

Alec came back to the world slowly. Voices. Loud ones. Boots on the floor. The sound of doors opening. Her eyes blinked open just as paramedics rushed into the kitchen, their bright uniforms swimming in her blurry vision. “Ma’am, can you hear me?” Alec tried to focus, groggy and disoriented, instinctively reaching for her stomach. “My… kids. My daughter—” she rasped. “She’s okay,” one of them assured quickly. “She called us.” That didn’t fully register. What did register was the urgency in their movements as they lifted her carefully onto the stretcher. And the sudden, terrifying realization that something was very, very wrong. The ambulance lights painted the world in flashing red and white. Alec drifted somewhere between awake and gone, the rhythm of the siren cutting through the haze while a medic kept a steady hand against her shoulder, asking questions she could barely answer. “Ma’am, stay with me.” She breathed, eyelids heavy, “Mm—trying”. The twins shifted inside her, a faint movement that sent a spike of panic through her chest. “My husband—” she repeated again, voice thin. “Focus on breathing,” the medic urged. But Alec forced the words out anyway, stubborn even now. “He works there… hospital… surgery—” The rest dissolved into a shaky exhale as darkness tugged at her again. The ambulance doors burst open at the hospital entrance, stretcher rolling fast through bright emergency lights and sterile air. Alec stirred again as they pushed her through the ER doors, awareness flickering just enough to fight her way back for a moment. “Wait,” she rasped, fingers catching weakly at the sleeve of the paramedic steering her. Her voice was barely there, but the urgency in it was unmistakable. “Call… my husband.” Her eyes struggled to stay open as the hallway lights streaked overhead. “Jonathan,” she whispered hoarsely. “He works here.” The effort cost her. Her head fell back against the stretcher, consciousness slipping again as the ER swallowed them whole. “Please,” she murmured, the last thread of awareness clinging to one thought. “Tell Jon I’m here.”

[alectronathegoddess]

Alec stood in the quiet just beyond the doors, the world held at a hush like a breath before sunrise. White tulle spilled around her feet, light as a promise, threaded with gold that caught every flicker of candlelight—like the sun had decided to take human form and say yes. Her hands rested briefly at her waist, instinctive, protective, a secret only she, Jon, and Elsa knew. Two months. A heartbeat inside a heartbeat. Not showing yet, but there—real as the nerves humming through her bones. Someone murmured, They’re ready for you. She nodded, once. Lifted her eyes to the mirror for a final glance. Not to check herself—she already knew who she was—but to remember this version. The woman who had survived, loved, burned, rebuilt. The woman about to walk toward her future. The doors cracked open just enough for her to see Felicity and Marina lining up, all soft curls and gold-trimmed white, tiny suns in their own right. Alec crouched just in time to catch Felicity in a tight hug, pressing her forehead to her daughter’s. “You ready, my star?” she whispered. Felicity nodded solemnly, then immediately grinned like this was the best day of her life. Petals scattered. Laughter fluttered. The girls stepped forward. And then— The music shifted. The doors opened wide. Everyone stood. Phones lifted. Hands flew to mouths. Tears fell freely, shamelessly. Somewhere, someone sobbed like they’d been waiting years for this moment. Alec barely noticed. All she saw was Jon. Black and gold. Steady. Beautiful. His eyes locked on hers like gravity remembered its job. The aisle stretched between them, and Alec walked it like it had always belonged to her—measured, luminous, unafraid. When she reached him, she didn’t hesitate. She leaned in just enough, voice barely more than breath. “Hi,” she whispered, smiling like the whole universe had conspired just for this. “You clean up dangerously well.” The officiant began to speak—words about time, about love, about choosing and being chosen. A poem followed, something old and aching and hopeful. Someone sang, voice rising and falling like prayer. Alec heard none of it. She watched Jon’s hands. His mouth when he smiled. The way his eyes softened like he couldn’t believe she was real. Her thumb brushed his knuckles, grounding, familiar. “This part?” she murmured under it all, playful, sure. “This is my favorite part of our story.” And when the world faded back in, when vows waited on the edge of their tongues, Alec stood radiant and anchored and utterly present—already married in every way that mattered. @immcrtalsx