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098098978798989787 · 29 days
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nexgenfreelancer · 9 months
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For Start Your Online Business Contact Us
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91vaults-art · 2 years
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Another Copic pic from last year. The Australian "Servo"
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todaf56769sealeaf · 9 days
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**Corporate Gift Hampers: Giving Your Corporate Diwali Gifts a Nicer Touch**
In business, gratitude and appreciation are extended to customers, employees, and business associates. A nice way to extend your gratitude and reinforce such bonds is through Corporate Gift Hampers. Beautifully assembled, these could help in leaving favorable impressions on the recipient's minds, especially during festivals like Diwali. At Mib print, we specialize in creating memorable corporate Diwali gifts that are not only pleasing to the eye but also speak volumes about your company's values and appreciation. Here's why corporate gift hampers are an excellent choice and how you can make them extraordinary this Diwali.
### **Why Choose Corporate Gift Hampers?**
Corporate gift hampers come with a unique blend of versatility and personalization that makes them very unique for Diwali. Here is why they are ideal:
1. **Personalization:** The gift hampers can be personalized for different tastes and preferences, making them versatile for clients, partners, and employees alike.
2. **Impressionable Impact:** A thoughtfully curated hamper creates a very strong impression. It is not just a gift, but a well-thought-out selection of things that speak volumes about being thoughtful and caring.
3. **Convenience:** Hamper extends convenience for both the giver and the receiver. They are pre-packed and save one the trouble of wrapping each gift item and maintaining a uniformity of presentation.
4. **Enhancing Brand Image:** High-quality, branded items in a gift hamper uplift the image of your company through professionalism and appreciation shown.
### **Curating the Perfect Corporate Diwali Gift Hamper**
To create a memorable corporate Diwali gift hamper, combine a mix of items that spell festivity and functionality. Here is just a starting point for your ideas:
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1. **Gourmet Delights:**
   - **Premium Chocolates:** High-end chocolates will never go out of style. Consider artisanal brands or luxuriant ones for an added indulgent touch.
- **Exquisite Teas / Coffees:** Gourmet teas or high-end blends of coffee give this hamper an extra touch of class.
 - **Assorted Nuts & Dried Fruits:** Nuts and dried fruits add an exquisite and healthy offering for a mix in the hamper.
2. **Festive Treats:**
 - **Diwali Sweets**: Traditional sweets such as ladoos, barfis, or mithais can add flavors of festivity.
- Savory Snacks: Add a choice of savory snacks in order to balance the sweet delights effectively.
3. **Personalized Items**
   - Branded Merchandise: Branded mugs, pens, and notebooks hit a personal note and serve your brand interest.
   - Engraved Gifts: Add personalized items such as engraved key chains or customized coasters.
- **Reusable Products:** Add to the list eco-friendly products like a set of bamboo cutlery, reusable water bottles, or sustainable shopping bags.
  - **Plant Kits:** Anything as simple as a small potted plant or even a plant-growing kit can be such a wonderful and green addition.
5. **Luxurious Additions:**
  - **Sophisticated Wine or Spirits:** One might also want to add, for more luxury, a bottle of fine wine or spirits to the basket.
- High-End Accessories: Accessories like leather organizers or fine stationery may add finesse to the hamper.
### Packaging and Presentation
The way you present your corporate gift hamper will be as important as what's in it. At Mib print, we make sure that every single hamper is packed beautifully for a striking first impression. Here are some tips:
- Elegant Packaging: Avail of good packaging material. Decorative boxes or baskets could add elegance to it.
• Touch of Temptation: Add decorative touches with bright ribbons, traditional motifs, or Diwali-themed papers.
• Personal Notes: Paste a personal note in the box with your handwritten or printed note to express your Diwali wishes and gratitude.
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### Conclusion
Corporate gift hampers create the perfect way to enjoy Diwali and forge relationships in business. You can gift just what your recipients want, while reflecting upon your company's appreciation with festival treats combined into a hamper, personalized items, and elegant packaging. With Mib print, we shall always be committed to helping you craft the most desired corporate Diwali gifts that leave a mark. This Diwali, let your gifts shine as bright as the festival itself.
Diwali wishes from Mib print! ????????
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mydigitalsolutions · 28 days
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Why My Digital Solutions is Melbourne’s Leading Digital Marketing Firm
If you're looking for a top digital marketing company in Melbourne, My Digital Solutions should be your first choice. Here’s why this company stands out from the rest and why it’s so popular among businesses. Expert Team
My Digital Solutions has a team of experts who know digital marketing. They understand how to get your business noticed online. This team stays up-to-date with the latest trends and changes in digital marketing, so your business always gets the best strategies. Whether it's search engine optimization (SEO), social media marketing, or content creation, their team has the skills to boost your online presence.
Customized Strategies
One of the reasons My Digital Solutions is a leading digital marketing company in Melbourne is its ability to create customized strategies. They don’t use a one-size-fits-all approach. Instead, they take the time to understand your business goals and target audience. It means they create a plan that fits your needs and helps you reach your goals more effectively.
Proven Results
My Digital Solutions has a track record of delivering results. They have worked with various businesses, helping them increase their online visibility and drive more website traffic. They can show you how their efforts are making a difference using data-driven strategies. Their results speak for themselves, and many clients have seen significant improvements in their online performance.
Affordable Services
Many businesses need to pay more attention to the cost of digital marketing services. My Digital Solutions offers competitive pricing, making its top-notch services accessible to a wide range of businesses. It provides excellent value for the money, ensuring you get high-quality work without breaking the bank.
Excellent Customer Support
Customer support is a key part of My Digital Solutions' success. They are always available to answer your questions and provide updates on your marketing campaigns. Their team is friendly and dedicated to ensuring your satisfaction with their services. This level of support helps build strong relationships with their clients and ensures smooth communication throughout your marketing journey.
Innovative Tools and Techniques
To stay ahead of the competition, My Digital Solutions uses the latest tools and techniques in digital marketing. They invest in the best technology to ensure that your marketing campaigns are efficient and effective. This commitment to innovation helps them provide cutting-edge solutions that keep your business competitive in the digital space.
Focus on Results
My Digital Solutions are focused on delivering measurable results. They track the performance of your campaigns and make adjustments as needed to ensure the best possible outcome. This focus on results means you can trust that their strategies are working to improve your online presence and achieve your marketing goals.
Strong Reputation
Finally, My Digital Solutions has built a strong reputation in Melbourne. They are known for their professionalism, reliability, and success. Many businesses have chosen them as their digital marketing partner and have been pleased with the results. Their reputation is a testament to their ability to deliver on their promises and help businesses thrive online.
Conclusion - 
My Digital Solutions is Melbourne’s leading digital marketing company because of its expert team, customized strategies, proven results, affordability, excellent customer support, innovative tools, focus on results, and strong reputation. If you want to take your business to the next level online, My Digital Solutions is the company to trust. Their commitment to helping businesses succeed makes them the top choice for digital marketing in Melbourne.
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expitsusmita · 6 months
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sgkprinters · 7 months
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What type of material is best for Coasters?
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Ultimately, the ideal material will depend on your specific needs and preferences. Consider factors such as moisture absorption, heat resistance, ease of cleaning, and how well the material complements your décor when choosing the best coasters for your home or office.
Ceramic: Ceramic coasters are a popular choice for their durability and heat resistance. They come in a variety of designs and colors, making them easy to coordinate with your existing decor. Ceramic coasters are also easy to clean and can withstand frequent use without losing their aesthetic appeal.
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Stone: Stone coasters, such as those made from slate or marble, add a touch of elegance to any tabletop. They are highly absorbent, making them ideal for protecting surfaces from condensation and spills. Stone coasters are also durable and long-lasting, but they may require occasional sealing to maintain their appearance.
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Cork: Cork coasters are lightweight, eco-friendly, and naturally absorbent, making them an excellent choice for preventing moisture damage to your furniture. Cork is also a sustainable material, as it is harvested from the bark of cork oak trees without harming the tree itself. Cork coasters are available in various shapes and sizes and can be easily cleaned with a damp cloth.
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Leather: Leather coasters offer a luxurious and sophisticated look while providing excellent protection for your tabletops. They are durable, stain-resistant, and easy to clean, making them a practical choice for everyday use. Leather coasters come in a range of colors and finishes, allowing you to customize them to match your decor style.
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Silicone: Silicone coasters are flexible, non-slip, and heat-resistant, making them ideal for both indoor and outdoor use. They are easy to clean and can be washed with soap and water or placed in the dishwasher for hassle-free maintenance. Silicone coasters come in a variety of fun shapes and colors, adding a playful touch to your table settings.
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Acrylic: Acrylic coasters are lightweight, durable, and shatterproof, making them a practical choice for busy households or outdoor entertaining. They are available in a range of vibrant colors and modern designs, allowing you to express your personal style while protecting your furniture from damage.
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Ultimately, the best material for coasters depends on your individual preferences, lifestyle, and the specific needs of your home. Consider factors such as durability, absorbency, aesthetics, and ease of cleaning when choosing the perfect coasters for your space.
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digitalitpro · 11 months
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At Digitalit, we are passionate about harnessing the power of digital marketing to create better brand awareness for our clients. Our mission is to elevate your brand's online presence, engage your target audience, and drive growth for your business. With a dedicated team of experts and a track record of success, we offer a comprehensive range of digital marketing services tailored to your unique needs.
Our Expertise:
Search Engine Optimization (SEO): Our SEO wizards work diligently to ensure that your website ranks at the top of search engine results. We employ cutting-edge techniques to optimize your site for relevant keywords, enhancing your visibility and driving organic traffic.
Pay-Per-Click (PPC) Advertising: As certified Google Ads and Facebook Ads specialists, we create data-driven PPC campaigns that maximize your return on investment. We use a combination of keyword research, compelling ad copy, and audience targeting to deliver immediate results.
Social Media Marketing: Social media is where conversations happen, and we ensure your brand is part of the discussion. Our social media experts curate content, manage your profiles, and execute strategic campaigns that foster brand loyalty and engagement.
Content Marketing: Content is king, and we have a team of creative writers who craft compelling and informative content to engage your audience. From blog posts to infographics and videos, we develop content that not only resonates with your audience but also boosts your website's authority.
Email Marketing: We design, execute, and monitor email marketing campaigns that deliver personalized messages to your subscribers. Our goal is to nurture leads, retain customers, and drive conversions.
Website Design and Development: A well-designed website is the cornerstone of your online presence. Our experienced web developers create responsive, user-friendly websites that align with your brand identity and provide an exceptional user experience.
Why Choose Digitalit:
Tailored Solutions: We understand that one size doesn't fit all. Our strategies are customized to your business goals and target audience.
Proven Track Record: Our portfolio is a testament to our success. We've helped businesses across various industries achieve remarkable results.
Transparent Reporting: We believe in complete transparency. You'll have access to detailed reports and analytics to track the impact of our campaigns.
Dedicated Team: Our passionate and experienced team is committed to your success. We stay up-to-date with the latest industry trends to ensure you remain at the forefront of digital marketing.
Continuous Improvement: The digital landscape is ever-evolving. We constantly refine our strategies and adapt to industry changes to keep your brand ahead of the curve.
Digitalit is not just a digital marketing company; we are your partners in success. We take the time to understand your brand and objectives, and we use our expertise to create a digital marketing strategy that will drive better brand awareness, increased engagement, and, ultimately, greater business growth. Whether you're a startup looking to make your mark or an established business aiming to solidify your online presence, Digitalit is here to help you every step of the way. Let's embark on this digital journey together and make your brand stand out in the digital landscape.
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Hi, I am Digital Gaurav Sharma, a Certified Digital Marketer based in Mumbai. I am open to any digital marketing-related Jobs, Projects, and Company Partnerships.
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pinechild · 6 days
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I was watching Hazbin Hotel and I saw Alastor's design and I thought I've never seen a yandere story about a deer monster... So could you do that, please?
I’ve never watched Hazbin Hotel, but I do like what you’re thinking, anon. I’m rusty when it comes to writing full blown fics so go easy on me chat 🫡
Antlered, Stalking
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◇ Gn! Reader
◇ Summary: You get lost in the woods after a heavy downpour washes away all of your markers to get back to your car, leaving you open for a yandere deer beast to ensnare you in his grasp. He thinks he’ll keep you - his newest mate.
◇ Warnings: horror themes, yandere themes, stalking (obvi), non consensual licking + touching, mentions of dead animals, entrapment, slightly suggestive, bugs (?)
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Torrential rainfall would be perfect for you, especially in this time of year, under different circumstances. But now—as your hair sticks to your face, cold and damp, your heart clamored in your ears; It was anything but.
Fear injects itself into your gut—its frigid and decaying fingers piercing right through your stomach and making its presence known to your bloodstream as it spreads its digits. The makeshift chalk markers you made on multiple trees instantly washed away once the storm rolled in, leaving stupid little you, lost.
It’s almost as if you were frozen in time, not hearing the rain harshly slapping against the leaves, or the sound of your own breath leaving your lungs—not even the sound of wet underbrush being squished somewhere off in the distance. Anxiety has your mind clouded in a thick miasma, riddling itself with possible solutions to try to get you back to where you came from and into the safety of your beat up car, survival fully switching on in your brain and making your thoughts race.
In retrospect, you knew this wasn’t a good idea from the start, but human as you are, your own arrogance was your hubris—believing that since it’s never happened to you before, it’ll most likely not happen to you now. As if the stars were smiling upon you and bestowing upon you fortune for seemingly being on good behavior as of late.
Oh how you wish you could slap the fuck out of your past self right now and got proper markers.
Cell service was pretty much moot as an option—you knew that, even the most beginner of hikers (those with half a brain, anyway) knew this fact. The forest in this area was just so thick that it would be mere impossible for any radio waves to pass through. So, the next best thing is—
Your body in an instant—and almost unconsciously— fiddle inside your pockets, methodically searching for something like a well oiled machine before you hunch over, letting the rain drum against your back and bead off of your jacket in attempt to not let a single drop soak the inside your bag. The only sounds you can soak in are the rustling of cloth, zippers closing shut, and the rain that continues to beat on your back until your fingertips finally bump into the item you’re looking for: your compass.
You cant help but a little flicker of hope spark inside you as you pull it out.
With a slight tremble of your fingers, you lift up the compass, breath bating as the needles slightly jerk from its magnetic pull. The slight anticipation gnawing at your chest.
However what you don’t expect is for the needles to instantly spin precariously at a rapid pace, as if it was a dog chasing its own tail, going round and round and round. In your eyes (in the most irrational of case), It’s almost like it’s taunting your situation, and fears gnarled fingernails scrape against your gut, tugging it down as you spend more than one second thinking about it.
What the fuck? Is this thing broken? How?? Didn’t this work before?
Hot, acidic bile stings at the back of your throat, your mind screaming at you to move amongst the sea of questions ruminating.
Biologically, the human brain tends to react in a sequence of events when danger is present in its environment: Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. And your brain, in this case, instantly makes your legs move—uprooting your feet from the muddy earth. Flight it is.
You know partly how you came to this spot in to where you were now, so in a snap decision you decide to retrace your steps to the best of your abilities—better than staying in one place with a broken fucking compass. And god forbid it gets dark, you don’t think you could follow the stars with all this cloud coverage in the first place (not like you could anyways but it that was neither here nor there)—
Along with the nonstop pour, mud squelches and plops under your shoes, the cold starting to nip at your fingertips. The only thing right now your mind can focus on is just getting out of here—your eyes scanning for any wildlife as you move through the dense forest floor, trying your best to avoid rocks or uneven earth. But, the more you try to retrace your steps….the more you feel an uneasiness prickle at the nape of your neck; hairs and goosepimples uncomfortably standing on end.
Are you being followed?
No, that’s not possible. You were the only person here from the last two hours—matter of fact, you didn’t even see any wildlife skittering about during that time either, and that strikes you as odd. Rain or not, there was bound to be a couple chipmunks scampering in the undergrowth.
A dreadful feeling swirls inside you at that thought, blooming inside you along with your throat getting uncomfortably dry—something’s wrong here.
It’s then you hear a cry in the distance, echoing even through the thickest of bramble—an eerie, grating sound, one that mimics decrepit metal doors opening on rusted hinges. It’s a familiar sound, but foreign at the same time. What is it? Why does it itch at your brain so much?
Until it hits you: It’s an elk.
That chilling sound like it belongs in a horror movie, scraping at your ears like nails on a chalkboard every time you heard it. You recognize it now.
It’s odd though, you don’t remember any elk living in this forest before, but, maybe you were just lucky to have never heard its cry during mating season. Who knows. But, right now you can’t think about that right now—you need to move. An elks bugle shouldn’t shake you up this much as it did. You have to go. Now.
You continue your trek, trudging your legs along as your lungs shake with each exhale. That unnerving feeling of being watched sticks in the back of your mind, making you pick up the pace. You try to ignore the elk’s bugling getting louder and louder with each step. Even still, the sound unsettles you. Maybe, in the best case scenario, it was just your paranoia getting to you, playing tricks on you to think you’re in more danger than you already are—at least that’s what your anxiety riddled brain likes to think.
But the more you thoughts stew on it, the weirder it gets: You know you remember there’s no elk in this forest—you remember the first time you hiked here and the guide saying something about watching out for bears and the occasional wolf—but never about elk. Not that they were dangerous to humans anyways but still—they were never mentioned among the list of what you would see on the trails, that you remember.
And not hearing multiple elk during mating season is strange in itself, how come was there only one? Not to mention you’ve never even seen any on your hikes—ever. And to see there’s no other wildlife besides the elk? The compass spinning in all directions? The sickening feeling of being watched, possibly stalked?
It’s weird. It’s weird and it’s not just your imagination.
Something is deeply, deeply wrong here.
Bone scrapes against wood, and on instinct, you run into a full sprint.
Ignoring how the mud splotches onto your clothes, your throat clamps shut as adrenaline surges your veins heart thundering in your ears obstreperously, rattling your eardrums and breaking your skin into a cold sweat.
In the most logical minds, one would know that it was just the elk rubbing its antlers on a tree as its mating habits, that it’s nothing to worry about—but you knew it wasn’t the truth. The sound of anything other than the rain and your bones creaking under your skin wasn’t natural. It didn’t belong here.
And what’s even worse is the thrashing of underbrush quickly catching up behind you. Your vision almost becomes dizzy with how much adrenaline is pumped into your bloodstream and panic settling in to the marrow of your bones. The haunting, metallic bugle of the elk dwarfs your heartbeat, looming over you. The acid of the bile pools in your mouth, stinging at your tongue and almost making you wretch. You gotta hide! Need to—
Your chest harshly lands on the waterlogged ground, effectively knocking the wind out of you as mud cakes your face and chest. Unnaturally large hands wrap around your waist and that creaky, hollowed bugle rings right beside your ear. Choking on your breath, you dare to crane your neck to look over your shoulder, body trembling as you cough and wheeze your way to breathe again. The sight alone makes eyes go wide at the first glimpse on what towers above you.
What you see, is no ordinary elk, but a monster. One with antlers strong and pointed, reaching towards the heavens and branching out to the point where the two antlers almost touch—like tangled and twisted tree roots. Its head an elk skull, underneath the empty sockets lie human eyes, peering at you. You even dare say, undressing you.
Its upper body is like that of a human, save for the talon like nails that anchor your body down to the ground. As your eyes move down, however, you see the dirt caked fleshy skin transition into fur—one traditionally like an elk followed by hind legs and cloven hooves, chipped and worn with age. Natures twisted amalgamation of animal and human; a bastard of the unnatural.
It bugles again, softly this time, crooning. Almost as if asking if you like what you see.
And you want to fucking throw up at the implication.
The urge to scream and thrash away from its grip dies before it even begins like a snuffed out flame. An invisible force freezing your vocal cords, holding them captive as the creature leans closer, hinging its maw open to reveal a sleek, black tongue—licking you. Your muscles writhe beneath your skin.
“Mine.” Its voice is a rumble of thunder, rippling throughout your fragile bones as it—he—speaks. It’s a voice worn and booming; one that hasn’t been used in ages—at least that’s what you assume. Plumes of his breath appear in a smoke like cloud against the biting chill of the rain, tongue retracting back once its had his fill of licking all the salt and sweat from your cheeks.
Lifting your frozen body with a relative ease, he tucks you to his side, cradling your body in his hand as if he was holding a parcel.
In this moment, you can’t think. Everything’s happening so fast that your mind can’t even keep up, mentally grasping at straws at the how’s, when’s and why’s of it all. It’s like your mind is on a chairoplane—holding you just by the head as it spins at a nauseatingly rapid pace while you ragdoll through the air.
When the wind and rain whips at your face as he starts to move, do you notice how he weaves through the forest at a breakneck, inhuman speed. It dawns on you there was no chance of getting out of here to begin with.
The world, or rather, the reality you thought you knew, utterly shatters. Monsters are real—and you’re being kept by one, dangling in its grasp as it figures out what to do with you next.
Tears never seem to come from your glassy eyes, but you could feel them chewing at your optic nerve—a burning, sizzling tingle, something akin to a sparkler you used to play with as a kid on muggy summer nights.
Thinking about it, you’ll never be able to play with them again—or drive your car, or even complain to your friends about work. You never even got to tell your mom you love her after your fight.
You’ll never be able to do that again, you'll never able to do anything again, not while you’re in this beasts grasp. And the realization of that, makes the cavity in your chest clatter in a silent, violent scream. If your lips could move, you’re sure your throat would be rubbed raw by now, vocal chords utterly fried.
Too lost in your own despair, you don’t notice that the creature stopped running until you hear a light chuff above you. Raising your head at the noise, you see the mouth of a cave—a warm, amber flame casting ambient light along the jagged edges of the rocks. A deceptive illusion of comfort beckoning you in.
When getting closer, you see a string of dead rabbits formed into an almost perfect circle near the foot of the entrance, just mere feet away from the kindling fire. A gift? An offering of some sort? Well, you don’t care either way, it’s not like you’re going to take it.
The monster sets you down, whispering a soft hum in some sort of satisfaction, probably because of its successful attempt at catching you. His eyes, dark and lifeless, resembling the bottomless void, follows the way the flames mold to the planes and soft curves your face, drinking in every pore and detail of you.
You try not to focus on him or the stench of the rabbit corpses assaulting your nose, all you can do now to keep your sanity is to just stare into fire.
You hear shuffling, fur chafing on stone as he gets closer, jaw chittering as his tongue slides along your neck. It's oddly warm without the rain nulling your sense of touch, but it does nothing to help from the familiar taste of bile from swelling in your throat.
“Mate. Mine.” His large hands resting onto your stomach, fingers creeping under the layers of clothing to get a mere touch of your naked flesh. Feeling him touch you like this feels like bugs are wriggling underneath your skin, wiggling and writhing in disgust. You want to pluck them out, get rid of this nastiness tainting your body and scrub at your skin until you're red and bleeding.
A gargled sense of a moan creaks out of this throat.
“Love. Breed.”
Your stomach drops to your ass, knowing your fate was already sealed with just those two words.
On its own, your body shakes as he purrs, bone snout nuzzling into your hair. The nauseating reality of you never being found again or even being able to see the outside world weighs on your tongue like stones. It makes you sick—want to scream, curl up into a ball and wither away, letting the cave centipedes eat at you down to the bone.
And it’s all because of those fucking markers.
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morbidology · 13 days
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Kris Kremers, 21, and Lisanne Froon, 22, were two close friends from Amersfoort, Netherlands. Both were bright and enthusiastic young women who shared a passion for travel and exploration. In March 2014, they set off for Panama, planning to spend several weeks volunteering and exploring the country's culture and natural beauty.
After spending some time in the bustling city of Boquete, they decided to hike the El Pianista trail on April 1, 2014. The trail, known for its scenic views of the Panamanian jungle, was supposed to be a straightforward hike, but it would be the last time Kris and Lisanne were seen alive.
When Kris and Lisanne failed to return from their hike, concern quickly grew. The women had planned to meet a local guide the following day for a tour, but they never showed up. After several days of no contact, their families in the Netherlands raised the alarm, and a large-scale search and rescue operation was launched.
The search, which involved local authorities, indigenous tribes, and Dutch rescue teams, initially yielded no clues. The dense jungle, with its treacherous terrain and unpredictable weather, made the search incredibly challenging. Weeks passed with no sign of the young women, and hope began to fade.
Two months after their disappearance, a local woman found a backpack belonging to Lisanne Froon near a riverbank several kilometers from the El Pianista trail. The backpack, remarkably undamaged despite being exposed to the elements, contained crucial items, including Lisanne's passport, a water bottle, sunglasses, two pairs of bras, and $83 in cash.
Most notably, the backpack also held both women's cell phones and a camera.
The discovery of the cell phones provided a chilling glimpse into the ordeal Kris and Lisanne had faced. Investigators found that the women had attempted to call emergency services multiple times, starting just a few hours after they began their hike. However, due to the poor cell reception in the jungle, none of the calls went through except for one that lasted just a second before dropping. The phone records also showed that the devices were turned on and off multiple times over the following days, with the last activity recorded on April 11, ten days after their disappearance.
The digital camera found in the backpack contained over 100 photographs, some taken during the early stages of their hike, showing the women smiling and enjoying their adventure. However, the camera also contained a series of strange and disturbing images taken during the night on April 8, seven days after they were last seen. These photos showed the dark jungle, with unclear and seemingly random shots of rocks, a bridge, and a possible trail marker. One of the final images showed the back of Kris Kremers' head.
The discovery of the backpack led searchers to further explore the area, and soon after, human remains began to surface. Over the next few weeks, investigators found scattered bones, including a pelvic bone and a boot containing a foot, later identified through DNA testing as belonging to Lisanne Froon. More bones, including a fragmented rib bone from Kris Kremers, were also found in the vicinity.
The condition of the remains added another layer of mystery to the case. While Lisanne's bones appeared to be naturally decomposed, some of Kris's bones were found bleached, leading to speculation about what might have happened to the women in their final days.
The deaths of Kris Kremers and Lisanne Froon have fueled a multitude of theories, ranging from tragic accidents to foul play. Some believe that the women became lost in the jungle and succumbed to the harsh conditions, including dehydration, starvation, or injury. The nighttime photos and desperate attempts to call for help suggest they may have been trying to find their way out or signal rescuers.
However, the case has also sparked darker theories, including the possibility of foul play. The condition of the remains, the unexplained photos, and the discovery of the backpack in a relatively undamaged state have led some to speculate that the women may have encountered someone with ill intentions or that their deaths were not purely accidental.
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gotham-ruaidh · 7 months
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart
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New York City ||| September 1988
I was standing You were there Two worlds collided And they could never tear us apart…
 - “Never Tear Us Apart”, INXS (1988) [click here to listen]
~~~~~
The taxi glided to a stop in front of the Plaza Hotel. A bellman opened the door before the passenger finished paying the driver. With a quick thanks the passenger exited the taxi, squinting in the early afternoon sunshine, nodding a hello at the bellman and his top hat.
Quietly the man entered the hotel and crossed the lobby.
“Hello,” he greeted the woman standing behind the Guest Services desk. “I’m here to see Colum Laird.”
“Certainly. Your name, sir?”
The man pulled a business card from the breast pocket of his blazer.
Raymond Germain, MD
Private Counseling
New York City
“One moment, please.” The woman dialed a string of digits, speaking softly into the phone.
Raymond waited, glancing around the lobby. A cluster of photographers sat, bored, around a side table. Several young men and women with spiky hair and leather jackets stood in another corner, some clutching record albums and permanent markers. Two women in low cut dresses primped in front of their hand mirrors.
“Dr. Germain? Mr. Laird is ready to see you. Please follow my colleague.”
A man, dressed in a smart suit, appeared seemingly out of the wall. “Right this way, sir.”
Raymond followed him across the lobby, through a set of double doors marked STAFF ONLY, and into an elevator bank.
“The band has booked the entire northwest corner of the sixteenth floor,” the man explained. “It’s configured in such a way to provide total privacy. This elevator is the only way to get up there.”
“I see.” Raymond shifted on his feet, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “How long have they been staying here?”
The elevator arrived, and the man gestured for Raymond to enter. “Three nights so far. From what I understand, they’ve played two sellouts at Madison Square Garden. With the final show tonight.”
The man pressed 16, and the doors slid shut.
“How have they been as guests?”
The man smiled. “It’s hotel policy to not comment on any guest who stays here. But what I will tell you, is that it’s much more sedate than the last time they stayed with us, in ’86. The entire fifteenth floor had to be re-carpeted.”
The doors opened onto a hallway. A short, middle-aged man with shoulder-length graying hair stood in the elevator lobby. A dozen doors trailed away in the corridor behind him.
“Dr. Germain.” He extended a hand in greeting. “Welcome.”
“Mr. Laird. Colum. Call me Raymond, please. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The elevator doors slid shut, leaving Colum and Raymond in the hallway.
“Well, Raymond – thank you for coming. I know getting up here is a bit unorthodox – but it’s the only way to ensure total privacy. Things have been a bit of a zoo this summer.”
Raymond smiled kindly. “I truly can’t imagine.”
Colum sighed, wiping his eyes. “Fortunately it’s been a bit of a quiet morning. The band and the crew are pretty exhausted.”
A crash from behind the closest door. Followed by a man’s voice, and a woman’s high-pitched giggle.
Colum smiled tightly. “Pay no attention to Angus. His only vice is women - he’s had a menage-a-trois going all tour.”
“I see,” Raymond remarked quietly. Not quite seeing at all.
Colum coughed. “Anyway, let me take you down the hall. They’re waiting.”
Dougal MacKenzie had not provided many specifics about Jamie and Claire Fraser. The broad strokes, of course – that both had been patients at The Ridge last year; that his addictions were alcohol and cocaine and women and hers were pills; that they had been married less than two months. That she was a surgeon.
Oh, and that he was the singer, guitarist, and chief songwriter of just about the biggest rock band in the world.
Raymond hadn’t a clue about Jamie’s music. But Dougal had said it wouldn’t matter. And in more than ten years of knowing each other, Dougal had proved to have impeccable instincts.
Colum knocked on the final door in the hallway. Muffled voices – and then a beautiful woman opened the door.
“You must be Dr. Germain.” She extended a warm hand in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Claire Fraser.”
Raymond took her hand between both of his. “Raymond. And the pleasure is all mine, Dr. Fraser.”
She smiled kindly, surprised. “Claire, please.” She tilted her head, just a bit. “Have we met before?”
Raymond returned her smile. “I don’t think so. I’m sure I would remember.”
Colum quietly stepped away and padded down the hallway.
Claire gestured behind her. “Please do come in.”
to be continued…
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2dmax · 1 year
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PAY WHAT YOU WANT, GET WHAT YOU GET
Minimum charge is $50. I make my art traditionally and digitally with a variety of media, but primarily nib pens & ink, alcohol marker, gouache, colored pencils, crayon, and oil pastel, and the program Clip Studio Paint.
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rotworld · 1 year
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Human's Best Friend
your friend's dog runs off during a hike, so you go to the nearby ranger station for help. a werewolf shows up.
->contains mild feral behavior.
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The Summitville Ranger Station’s front door has four deep gouges slashed across its surface.
The sight of them stops you in your tracks. They’re huge. You lay your hand over the damage and each jagged line is thicker than your fingers. They start just beneath the glass pane in the top half of the door and slither down diagonally in the echo of a single vicious movement. You find yourself glancing around, checking over your shoulder and peering into the woods to appease the panicked insistence of your hindbrain that you’re being watched. 
You probably are. This is wild wolf territory, after all. You know because the locals aren’t shy about telling people, the gas station attendant you saw half an hour ago absently mentioning there’s not just one but two packs in the area. So maybe that’s what this is, you reason. Some kind of territory marking thing, a message from one pack to another. That makes sense and helps ease the petrified terror that’s tying your stomach in knots. You’ll be fine, probably won’t even see them. You’re sure they’re busy doing…whatever it is that wild wolves do.
You suddenly remember a conversation you had on the way into town. Sitting in the passenger seat of your friend’s car with no cell service and a road atlas stretched across your lap, her dog Molly nudging her damp nose against one of your hands from the backseat, you’d stared at the little marker for Summitville on the map. “Why does that name ring a bell?” you wondered aloud. Your friend shrugged. Because she’d mentioned it before, she figured. She liked the trails out there, how remote and private it felt when you went deep enough. Maybe that was part of it.
But you remember now. You’d seen it in the news. Summitville has an unusually high number of disappearances for a city its size. All of the towns around here do. 
The lights are on but nobody’s home in the ranger’s station. It’s spacious and mostly empty, a few chairs and end tables clustered in the back behind an unoccupied welcome desk. A stack of wildlife books and tourist pamphlets gather dust in an antique cabinet. Old photographs hang on the walls, cloudy sepia snapshots of rivers and rock formations. You call out tentatively, the floorboards creaking beneath your hesitant footsteps. No one answers. You’re considering your options when you hear something outside. Quiet and distant, muffled through the wooden walls, it’s still unmistakable—a howl.
And then another. And then another, this one far closer than the others. You hear footsteps, but they’re all wrong. A heavy, four-legged trot creeps around the side of the ranger station before changing abruptly into a two-legged gait. You see dark fur in one window—flesh in the next. The door creaks open and your blood runs cold. Standing there, blocking your only exit with narrowed eyes and a sharp-toothed snarl, is a werewolf. 
It looks like he got stuck while shifting. His limbs are unnaturally long, thick with muscle and covered in black fur, each digit tipped with large claws. But the rest of him, head to hips, is all skin. Scars of all shapes and sizes cover his body, most of the hardened, puckered flesh littering his shoulders and chest. His hair is the same pitch black color as his fur, spilling long and wild down his back. His ears are a strange mix of traits, positioned where a human’s would be but with pointed ends covered in dark fuzz. In the same moment that you notice his shaggy tail, you realize he’s completely naked. Your eyes dart back up to his face. He’s glaring. He doesn’t say a word. You start to panic when he takes a step closer, stammering apologies.
“I’m just—I’m looking for a park ranger,” you manage to tell him. This doesn’t seem to help. He tilts his head slightly and you have no idea what the gesture is supposed to mean, what he wants from you. His eyes are gold and the way he looks at you is feral, assessing something you can’t even guess at. “I need help,” you say. Your breath hitches when he comes further into the ranger station but he leaves you alone, passing you for the desk. You watch in confusion as he starts rummaging through the drawers, clearly looking for something. Eventually, he produces a legal pad and a well-chewed pencil, and then he’s staring at you again. He looks absolutely bizarre, leaning an elbow against the desk casually with a tiny pencil clutched in his furred claws. His tail flicks in what looks like impatience. He clears his throat in a pointed manner.
“Oh,” you say, all of your breath rushing out in a sound of surprise and embarrassment. You’re an idiot. He’s the ranger. “I’m, uh. I’m looking for a dog. My friend’s dog, actually. She’s some kind of poodle mix, I think, with curly brown fur and a red harness. Her name’s Molly, it’s on her collar. I don’t know the trail very well, but we were down by the creek when she wandered off, just past the wooden bridge. My friend’s still there in case she comes back.”
The werewolf scribbles something so illegible you have no idea if it’s English or not. “Do you…” He pauses to cough and clear his throat again. His voice is gravelly like he rarely uses it. When he speaks again, it’s clearer but still hoarse and quiet. “Do you have something of Molly’s? A toy, or…” He gestures vaguely. You don’t understand why it matters, but he’s staring intently at the scarf balled up in your fist. It’s your friend’s. Can he tell? Does its scent clash with yours or something?
“Oh, uh, would this help?” you ask, handing the scarf to him. “My friend was wearing it, but Molly likes it a lot. She’s always rubbing her face on it.” 
The werewolf lifts it to his face and you hear him sniffing rapidly like a dog tracking a lost treat across the floor. It’s weird, and a little cute. His nose twitches. He seems put off somehow, his face scrunching up in distaste. Your friend’s perfume, maybe. You’ve heard that kind of stuff is a little strong for werewolves. You’re less frightened the next time you hear someone walking up to the ranger station, the sound of boots crunching the dirt loud and sharp with the door left wide open. The werewolves tail wags with slow anticipation, his eyes flicking to a spot over your shoulder. You turn around and go completely still, seized by primal terror.
 It’s a man. A big one. He’s so tall he has to duck to fit through the doorway. Something bothers you, and not just the obvious threat of his overwhelming size. It’s the way he walks. Just like the werewolf behind the desk, there’s something fluid and effortlessly graceful about his entire body, purpose in every movement. He doesn’t make any noise, you realize. The floor seems to groan and creak whenever you breathe, but it’s silent under his feet as he meanders over to the desk. It’s shocking that you might not have heard him coming if you hadn’t looked, given his size and apparent age. He’s older than the other one, you’d guess somewhere in his fifties. You’re acutely aware of just how much he towers over you as he passes. 
“Everything alright?” he asks. You nod meekly and his lips curl at that, a hint of a smile on his face before he wipes it away. Like the other werewolf, he’s grown his hair out long, tying some of it back in a messy bun and letting the rest hang loose. He glances briefly over the notepad and nods to himself. “Don’t worry, Sawyer’s my best tracker,” he reassures you. The other wolf, Sawyer, merely grunts, but his tail swishes at the praise. 
“Be back soon,” Sawyer mutters. He bumps against the other wolf when he leaves, but the gesture seems playful or at least friendly. They growl softly at each other, Sawyer’s tail slapping against the larger wolf’s leg before he suddenly drops to all fours and shifts. He’s engulfed by fur in seconds, ears lengthening, legs changing shape. You’re still stunned when he lops out the door and disappears.
“Here for a hike?”
That leaves you with the larger one who takes up a spot behind the desk with an easy smile. “Yeah, kinda,” you say. “My friend’s pretty outdoorsy. We’re not from here but we don’t live too far away, so she comes here a lot.” 
“This is excellent territory,” the werewolf agrees, nodding. “Quiet. Good hunting. Less light pollution. Humans like it, too.” He rests his arms on the counter, showing off full tattoo sleeves. You see curling, interlocking symbols and animals, the skeletal grin of a deer skull poking out beneath one sleeve. “Vanagandr,” he says, holding out his hand. You smile, appreciating his friendliness. 
Then you take his hand and your smile falters. You feel small and vulnerable, seeing how much his massive fist dwarfs your hand, engulfing your fingers easily. You think about the door.
He tilts his head the way Sawyer did earlier, examining you. “None of us where you’re from, I take it. Just puppies who forgot how to hunt.” The way he says “puppies” almost sounds derogatory. “Sorry if Sawyer gave you a fright. He’s had it rough with humans.”
“It’s fine, he just startled me a little,” you admit. “I didn’t expect him to be, uh…”
Vanagandr nods solemnly and makes a deep, rumbling sound. “Mmm. It’s a stress response. Shifting is emotional as well as physical. Going through something painful can make it more difficult.” You just nod, unwilling to correct him, but he seems to pick up on your hesitation anyway. A grin slowly stretches across his face. “Ahh. That’s not what you meant, is it? Nothing to be embarrassed about, I know it’s strange to you.” 
He drops the subject in favor of smalltalk, asking about where you’re from, what you do, how you like Summitville’s trails. You find yourself asking questions in return, cautiously at first, more eagerly when he seems endeared by curiosity. Yes, his pack really does handle search and rescue for all of the towns in their territory. No, they don’t get paid for it, at least not with money—they prefer food and supplies. He’s got an old family name that gets handed down through the generations to eldest sons and relatives still living in Norway and Sweden. He mentions he’s the pack alpha so offhandedly that you almost miss it.
He perks up like someone called his name. You listen, but you don’t hear anything. A full minute passes before you can make out something jingling—the little metal heart on Molly’s collar with her name and your friend’s contact information. You’re caught somewhere between relief and disbelief when Sawyer comes prancing back into the ranger station, still a wolf, with Molly hot on his heels, her muddy leash dragging behind her. She looks like a puppy next to him, a little brown ball of fluff against Sawyer’s dark fur. She’s got prickly seeds and twigs stuck in her coat but otherwise seems unbothered by her journey into the woods, more interested in yipping and batting at Sawyer than paying you any attention. Sawyer turns around and snaps his teeth but the gesture is playful, his tail wagging as he bows low and lets Molly pounce on him.
This is, in fact, the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re debating whether it would be wildly inappropriate to take a picture, only to hear a mechanical click behind you—Vanagandr winks, his phone balanced somewhat discreetly on the counter. 
“Go find your friend and give her the good news,” he says, waving you off. You’re fighting a broad smile when you leave, hurrying down the trail. She’s never going to believe this!
Vanagandr watches you go with his chin resting against his palm. Sawyer barks at him. “Can’t delete it ‘till I get their number,” Vanagandr says slyly. “Should’ve seen ‘em earlier. They were so embarrassed you weren’t wearing anything. Fuck, humans are cute.” 
Molly tires herself out and slumps against Sawyer’s front paws. He curls up next to her, nosing against her head. He lets out a keening sound, a whining howl. “Mm, yeah. It was a nice scent,” Vangandr says, chuckling. He texts Linden, lets him know the search is over. He sends the picture of Sawyer, too, because you’re in it, half-turned and grinning in delight. He remembers how small your hand was in his, rumbling happily. 
Linden sends one word back in response: No.
Killjoy, Vanagandr thinks, pocketing his phone. He didn’t mean anything serious by it. You’re skittish and fun to tease, things that get him going. He watches Molly doze on the floor, curled up in the space between Sawyer’s paws. He frowns. How long has it been now? Five years? Six? He sniffs his palm, inhaling the faintest traces of your scent. He misses that—a human, safe and sound in his den. The loud, obvious patter of their clumsy steps, how they fit so perfectly against his body like the half he didn’t know he was missing. 
How much worse is that ache for Linden? How desperately does he maintain his distance from the pack humans he treats these days, wanting so badly yet denying himself? 
He feels eyes on him. Sawyer watches silently as emotions flicker across his face. Vanagandr sighs heavily. “One of these days,” he murmurs. 
He’s all smiles when you come back with another human, watching you fuss over Molly. Sawyer slinks off without a proper goodbye, unwilling to pretend. But Vanagandr stays, deflects your thanks and enjoys your company as long as he can have it. He hugs you both. Squeezes tightly, lingers with his arms around you, recommends a place to eat in town. It was like this, once. Humans, sweet and happy, wrapped in his scent. It will be this way again. He lets you go even though he doesn’t want to. He buries his face against the side of your neck and gives you a small piece of him to carry home, even though you don’t know and it means nothing to you.One of these days, he tells himself resolutely, standing in the ranger’s station all alone.
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mydigitalsolutions · 3 months
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Few Points to Consider Before Hiring an SEO Agency in Melbourne
Before you hire an SEO agency in Melbourne, Australia, it's essential to consider several key points to ensure you find the right fit for your needs. Whether you're a small business or a large corporation, effective SEO can significantly impact your online presence and visibility. Here are some factors to keep in mind when choosing an SEO agency:
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3. Services Offered: Not all SEO agencies offer the same services. Some may specialize in technical SEO, while others excel in content marketing or local SEO. Assess your requirements and ensure that the agency you choose provides the services that align with your goals. Also, inquire about their approach to SEO and whether they follow ethical practices (avoid keyword stuffing).
4. Transparency and Reporting: Transparency is crucial when hiring an SEO agency. They should provide clear insights into their strategies, progress reports, and analytics to track the impact of their efforts. Regular reporting will help you understand the ROI of your SEO investment and make informed decisions moving forward.
5. Communication and Support: Effective communication is key to a successful partnership with an SEO agency. Ensure that they are responsive to your queries and provide proactive support. A dedicated account manager or team can make a significant difference in managing expectations and delivering results.
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Conclusion: Hiring an SEO agency in Melbourne, Australia requires careful consideration of your goals, their experience, services offered, transparency, communication, budget, and reviews. By assessing these factors and choosing wisely, you can find an agency that not only meets but exceeds your expectations, helping you achieve sustainable growth and success in the competitive online landscape.
In summary, finding the right SEO agency is crucial for maximizing your online presence and achieving your business goals. Take the time to research and evaluate your options to ensure a fruitful partnership that drives tangible results for your business.
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cbirt · 2 years
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AI-Powered Dementia Detection: A Digital Solution for Identifying Undiagnosed Cases
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Scientists from the Regenstrief Institute, IUPUI, Indiana University, and the University of Miami are using Artificial Intelligence to identify undiagnosed cases of dementia in primary care settings as part of the Digital Detection of Dementia (D3) study. The study aimed to improve the timely diagnosis of dementia and provide diagnostic services to those who have been identified as cognitively impaired.
Alzheimer’s disease and other forms of dementia (ADRD) impact millions of Americans and their caregivers, with an annual societal cost of over $200 million. Unfortunately, many people with ADRD go undiagnosed, and even when a diagnosis is made, it often comes 2 to 5 years after the onset of symptoms, when the disease is already in the mild to moderate stage. This delay in diagnosis reduces the chances of improving outcomes through drug and non-drug treatments and prolongs the expense of medical care. Also, delayed detection results in increased disabilities for patients, families, and society, and traditional methods such as cognitive screening tests and biological markers often fail to detect ADRD in primary care.
The researchers developed an AI tool called a Passive Digital Marker, which uses a machine learning algorithm and natural language processing to analyze a patient’s electronic health record. The tool combines structured data, such as notes about memory problems or vascular issues, with unstructured information to identify potential indicators of dementia.
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