oh, the dreadful wind and the rain

true north aid (an organization aimed at providing support to remote/northern indigenous people in canada)

canadian red cross wildfire fund

ontario spca and humane society (links to their donate page specifically aimed at supporting pets and animals in areas impacted by the fires)

new story dropped specifically in time for bastille day, because the strange horizons editors are the funniest people alive

She has you practically backed against the wall. Her knuckles are cool against your throat. If she pressed down she would choke you, which is a thought you think with your cunt. Later you will find out she carries a switchblade. “I do light time travel,” you manage. “Not on purpose.” It’s a necessary non-answer; you can’t say you sewed it yourself, based on your memories from Revolutionary France. It’s also a dodge that makes you sound like an asshole. But Mary-Caine Adair snorts, which makes your heart squeeze double-time. Then her eyebrows draw together, sharp. “What happened to your neck?” You realize too late your cravat has slipped down. Her finger presses against your pulse-point, against the scar necklacing your throat. “Oh,” you say, a touch breathless (she is so very close). “You know. Nothing yet.”

in a time when we need bold and dangerous queer stories now more than ever, "guillotine" asks the very important question: what if you kinned a dickens character so hard you died multiple times?

read it here for dimension-hopping, martyrdom fantasies in high school english class, undernegotiated and unsexy dyke bdsm, footnotes, historical reenactment clothing, and my personal thesis on how A Tale of Two Cities is about letting your undiagnosed adhd ruin your life <3

and behold my main character, courtesy of the wonderful @blackcatarts whose commissions are criminally cheap!