PSA:
Acetaminophen/paracetamol has a hard stop upper dose limit, above which it becomes extremely toxic.
That limit is 4g (8 “extra strength” (500mg) tablets) in 24 hours (about 2 tablets every 6 hours).
A single dose of 22 extra strength tablets can kill you.
Taking 12 or more tablets per day for more than a week can also kill you (this is about 3 tablets every 6 hours).
Symptoms of overdose take up to 24 hours to manifest, and are fairly difficult to distinguish from other problems. They include abdominal pain (especially right upper quadrant), nausea, malaise, and confusion.
The antidote (n-acetylcystine) must be given within 8hours of ingestion in order to be useful.
After 10 hours the only thing that will work is a liver transplant.
You might think “why would I ever accidentally take so much?”
Well, acetaminophen is in almost everything in the cold/flu/pain aisle. Migraine combos like Excedrin, cold and flu combos like NyQuil, basically anything that says “non-aspirin pain relief”, and anything that’s branded as a fever reducer. It’s all probably acetaminophen/paracetamol.
So the goal of this post is to get you to read the labels on your medications. Because taking taking Tylenol and NyQuil together for a week (like you might if you had the flu) could kill you.
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PAINKILLER - k.b
Requested: Yes
Warnings: Slight allusion to smut (if you squint), poor proof reading (as usual)
Word Count: 1184
A/N: Hi my lovelies! I know this has been a long time coming so I hope you enjoy. I haven’t written in a while so this might not be one of my best works but there should be more to come in the near future. I hope you enjoy!
Shadows engulfed our bodies, cascaded over our skin as our breath mingled with one another. The cold climate of Ketterdam allowed us to see our breath dance together in the small space between our faces. Short pants left both of us, eyes darting back to the threshold of the alley, anxiously scanning for any Dime Lions who were hunting for us. Yet again, one of Kaz Brekker’s infallible plans (his words directly) had collapsed faster than Jesper trying to resist the call of the cards. Another job gone awry, another pursuit through the murky streets of Ketterdam.
As protocol demanded of us, the other Crows and I had split into pairs in order to escape from the scene of the crime. And, of course, I had to end up with the Bastard of the Barrel himself. It was his fault the job had gone amiss; he had miscalculated how long it would take his deft fingers to pry into the lock of the safe. Ever skilful with his hands, we trusted him blindly. But we were swarmed by Dime Lions before Kaz could bypass the lock, much to everyone’s chagrin. Frustration still clouded my mind as I glared at my boss; his head lent against the damp stone wall of the alley, chest heaving with deep breaths. My eyes followed the sharp lines of his jaw, the shadows that covered us accentuating them. His tongue slipped past the barrier of his thin lips to moisten them before he allowed his eyes a moments rest, a great sigh escaping from his broad chest.
I was desperate to know what was raging through his head; perhaps he shared in my anger at the failure of a job, or maybe he held no remorse at all, merely considering the next job he’d send us on. My theories were soon discarded however, as I saw him move a singular gloved hand to his stomach, his breaths still deep but more controlled. Despite the fact that Kaz and I would often bicker and bite at one another, I was one of his most trusted compatriots; and I knew what most did not. The truth about his childhood, the demons that threatened to drag him into the depths of the water where his brother resided, the bile that promised to rise from his throat if he were to come into contact with another human being.
I pushed my back harder against the alley wall, trying to distance myself from my boss in a desperate attempt to provide him with some relief. Either my effort went unnoticed, or he didn’t care, for the next words that came from his mouth were, “Stop staring.”
“I’m not staring.” I was quick to respond, pressing myself further against the wall in another futile attempt to widen the space between us. “Then what are you doing?” His eyes were back on me, scanning me; ice following every slight movement of my face, every twitch of my lips, searching for the truth as if it were about to appear written on my forehead. “Checking for injuries,” I simply replied, my talents as not only a Grisha, but a healer, had been put to use countless times after jobs had gone astray. Or Jesper had ended up pissing off some poor soul that ended in a bar fight neither wanted. He merely hummed as a response before his eyes went back to the opening of the alley, scouting for Dime Lions again.
The sun had begun to set on Ketterdam, more and more people filtered onto the streets; laughter, smells of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol had started to float among the airwaves. Night was falling, the streets growing more crowded by the second, filled with inhabitants desperate for some form of sin. “We should move.” I suggested, fidgeting with my hands. Discomfort still lurked between us, “We can’t risk moving, not yet. We need to stay low,” He ran a hand through his dark hair, the strands slipping through his fingers as they found their place against his forehead. Kaz shifted on his feet, and I could see he was trying to think of his next move, planning a way for us to escape from the alley without being cornered by the Lions.
“Come here.” He muttered; words barely eligible over the sounds of various forms of pleasure that had crowded the streets of Ketterdam. “Excuse me?” To say I was shocked at his declaration would have been an understatement. The man in front of me nodded towards the opening of the alley, directing my attention to couples that had chosen that space to indulge in one another. Hands wandered against bodies, mouths collided with mouths, “If the Dime Lions come looking for us here, all they’ll find is people enjoying each other.” He had taken a step closer to me, no longer leaning his back against the dame alley wall. “But Kaz...” I tried to protest, thinking of the demons that were lurking behind his cold eyes.
He reached a gloved hand towards mine and pulled it towards him, more specifically his stomach. “Try.” I knew what he meant; we had mentioned it in passing before but had never got the chance to try it. I had proposed the idea that perhaps my abilities as a Corporalki could ease the nausea that filled him every time he came into contact with someone else. My eyes slipped shut as my fingers flexed, trying to find the pain that lurked within him; his hand remained wrapped around my wrist, pushing my fingers harder against himself. Even through the multiple layers of clothing, I could feel his muscles taut and tensing under my touch.
A whimper of relief left Kaz’s thin lips as he threw his head back once more, “Fuck.” It was working. I looked at the man in front of me as I continued to work at his pain. His eyes found me, “Kiss me.” He whispered. Unsure of whether the sudden urge for intimacy was to keep up the rouse of a couple, or if it came as a result of his new-found relief, I obliged his request.
Tentatively, I let my lips find his. Another moan came from Kaz, this time more guttural and primal. His hips pushed into mine, my back hitting the wall of the alley. His gloved fingers slid around my waist as the once-gentle kiss deepened. Our teeth collided, tongues dancing, hips grinding into one another. The surprise that filled my mind at his request had slowly begun to sink away, instead replaced by another feeling. One of hunger, of lust, for the Bastard of the Barrel, the very same Bastard who refused to come within an inch of another human being if he had the choice. The very same Bastard whose mouth was connected to mine, whose hands wondered the softer parts of my body, aimlessly grabbing and squeezing at the flesh. He was a man starved; a tortured man who had finally found relief, and was desperate to work out the frustrations that had amassed within his body.
You can find my other Kaz writings in my Masterlist.
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Painkiller
The 2000s and early 2010s were a weird time for the classic FPS. With military shooters starting to take over with the boom of WWII games that would eventually become the modern military FPS, alongside the regenerating health and limited load outs of Halo, the torch for the classic run and gun monster massacre was limited to just two franchises, before later attempts started to compromise with ideas from the aforementioned Halo and Call of Duty. The most famous of the two was definitely Serious Sam, which has entered a sort of creative renaissance with the boomer shooter revival. The other series, however, might have an even bigger footprint of impact, one most people may not even be aware of.
That series was Painkiller, starting with a 2004 PC game by People Can Fly. You may remember the studio more as the co-developers of Gears of War, Bulletstorm, and a little cult title you may not have heard of called Fortnite. Painkiller was their start, and the beginning of a massive domino effect that would shape the landscape of the FPS genre for decades to come. This is due mainly to former studio staff leaving to form their own studios, creating a surge of games that bare the DNA of this one game. This even includes project lead Adrian Chmielarz, who went on to create The Astronauts, the studio behind The Vanishing of Ethan Carter, and share hot takes. If you’ve played, say, the Shadow Warrior reboot series from Flying Wild Hog, congrats, you have experienced work of Painkiller devs, and there’s so many other examples.
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