#and that is all for tonight lamao

[randomoranges]

fits as au and canon

finally, the third and last idea from that one song from the other day lamao

Bright Red Lipstick  [And We’ll All Sing Along]

  It’s the last holiday show and Kate is a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, she’ll miss the fanfare of the holiday bonanza and presenting these particular numbers, but on the other, she can’t wait to find her usual costumes and put every rendition of All I Want for Christmas and Santa Baby behind her. She loves her friends who work with her dearly, but she’s officially reached her limit. She’s tired and exhausted, but she’s also very much well aware that in a week’s time, she’ll miss the vibrant backstage atmosphere and the thrill of performing. It’s her yearly conundrum and she’s far too used to it to do anything about it.

  Kate makes sure her wig is ready, before she brings it up to her vanity mirror to see how it looks. So far, the hair clips with the decorative holly are holding up nicely and they really make the wig look festive. She’s about to start on her makeup, figuring she can ask one of her friends to help her with the zipper on her dress, when there’s a very distinctive knock at her door. She puts her cream down and walks over to the door, opening it to reveal her boyfriend.

  How it is that Étienne manages to sneak backstage time and again is beyond her, but she’s ever so pleased to see him and she ushers him in, closing the door behind them both. She supposes that by now, most of her friends have at least ran into Étienne once and there is the fact that Étienne can be very persuasive and charismatic when he wants to, even if the fact remains that he shouldn’t sneak around backstage. But, she’s not about to complain, if it means that she can have a few more minutes with her beau.

  For starters, it isn’t every day that her boyfriend can come and see her perform, despite what they would both like and the fact that he’s here, for the last show of the holiday special, does give her an extra boost of energy. After tonight, she’ll be off until her birthday and she’ll get to spend that time with her beloved Étienne. She’s definitely looking forward to that.

  “These are for you, my dear,” Étienne says, holding out a bouquet of flowers like he always does when he comes to see her shows. She pretends that she’s flustered by the gesture, if only for the sake of appearances, but she still retrieves the vase she keeps under the vanity for such occasions and fills it with water from the adjacent sink. She places the flowers on the side of her dresser and looks at them for a moment, smiling softly.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you in your preparation,” Étienne mentions and she dismisses him with a hand as she returns to her mirror. There’s a reason she arrives extra early to prepare. Well – there are many reasons as to why she arrives early. Notably, she likes to give herself time to rehearse her number or numbers at least three more times and she doesn’t want to rush her preparation. Kate likes having the time to get dressed and do her makeup and if ever something doesn’t collaborate along the way, then she has the time to get it right. Plus, there’s always someone having some crisis or other and by being here, she can give a helping hand and not fall behind on her own preparation.  Finally, on the nights that Étienne gets to see her perform, she can indulge in his company for a few minutes, before shooing him away.

  “Absolutely not; you can help me with the dress.” She motions to the zipper and Étienne steps up behind her to do it up. He then hooks his chin over her shoulder and wraps his arms around her waist, all the while watching her start her transformation. He knows not to bother her and Kate has come to find out that Étienne can actually stay still and simply watch, so she lets him.

  Étienne kisses her shoulder and she smiles at him through the reflection in the mirror. He leans his head back on her shoulders and quietly watches, mesmerized, as she transforms masculine traits into more feminine ones; exaggerating some along the way and picking the shades of eye shadow that’ll give her the look she wants. He likes watching the transformation, fascinated by the spectacle and the skill set needed. He is, and remains, an artist, after all and he is captivated by the magic happening before his eyes.

  Kate keeps the conversation light, as she picks up one brush and another, glad Étienne gets to be here and watch her perform for the holiday specials. For as much as she misses her old numbers and familiar dresses, there is also something special with this particular holiday dress. The design had been Étienne’s and they had spent many a late night conversation going over details and corrections, between fits of giggles, as Étienne had done his very best to put her vision to paper. He had offered to make the dress, but she had politely declined, preferring to have it done on location. It would be easier that way for fittings and alterations. She could have put something together herself, but she’d been given carte blanche for this and had wanted to do something a little bit different and bold.

  “Green suits you, my dear.” Étienne murmurs into her neck. There’s a pleased little besotted look to his face that warms Kate’s insides, despite what she may say. She indulges him, giving the hand resting on her abdomen a squeeze, before she applies the last line of eye shadow.

  “You say that because it’s your colour.”

  Étienne chuckles; a cat caught with its paw in the cream, and denies nothing. Instead, he holds her a little closer and lets out a content little happy sigh, as if there’s no other place he’d rather be at the moment.

  There’s just her lipstick left, when Kate gets an idea. She wiggles out of Étienne’s embrace and sits on the vanity counter, motioning to her boyfriend to step closer. He does as he’s told, curious, and leans in, closing the gap between them. Kate applies the lipstick, no longer needing to look in a mirror, having done this so many times that she could do it with her eyes closed, before she presses a kiss to Étienne’s right cheek, leaving a bright red stain where her lips had been.

  “What are you doing?” Étienne asks, chuckling as Kate starts over with her process and then does the same with the other cheek.

  “Giving you Christmas kisses,” She answers, as if it’s the most obvious of things, before placing a third kiss to the corner of Étienne’s lips.

  Her boyfriend lets her do as she pleases, and Kate only stops when she believes that she’s left enough bright red kiss marks on Étienne’s face.

  She sits back, pleased with herself, and observes her handiwork for a moment. Étienne looks lovely this way and utterly content to have been kissed silly by her.

  “You know what you should do,” She starts, cupping his chin with her hand, “You should leave these on when you go out to watch the show.”

  Étienne gives her a look, pondering, and she knows that he’ll end up doing it. He likes to please her and this is the type of thing he would not mind doing at all. In a way, it would be a very public way of letting others around him know that Kat e has chosen him and he’s bound to announce this fact like a proud peacock.

  “With pleasure,” He says, proving her point.

  She beams at him and pecks his lips one more time, before sending him off to find his seat. With a final wave, Étienne wishes her luck and promises to find her after the show, and then lets her finish up her preparations.

  FIN

[hoshi-no-pops-05]

me: man i sure hope my bad memories and thoughts show up tonight

my bad memories and thoughts: eyyyy wasssup lamao remember all those horrible things what happened lol? btw it could happen again it could happen again it could happen again it-

[aimeecarreros]

lee know + tiny

bonus:

[randomoranges]

so this is the 3rd lyric from the song, but i’m trying to keep up with the fic-thing-whatever and ill get to the other parts later. the momentum is going and im trying to match it and such

lamao this reminds me of 2010 and when i wrote a chapter of a fic to match all of canadas medals. good times. that was - hard and a rush

also i made this into snippets of moments in the same day. to - make it shorter. even though it turned into an 8 page tiny monster lamao. 

ANYWAYS

DO YOU LIKE SPORTS. DO YOU LIKE FEELS. DO YOU LIKE NEUROTIC SPORTS SUPERSTITIONS

well, you will be served

Rouge comme le sang qui nous coule à travers

 July 5th 2021

 When Edward woke up that morning, he expected to find Étienne curled up by his side and to splurge and indulge in some good morning cuddles. Instead, the spot besides him was empty and cold. He sighed to himself and after waiting for a bit, in case his boyfriend made a reappearance, he shuffled his way to the kitchen, where he might find him.

 Truth to form, Étienne was there, already more or less dressed, drinking what couldn’t possibly be his first cup of coffee in the morning out of one of many Habs cups Edward had spotted in the last twenty or so hours.

 “Morning!” Étienne sounded a tad too cheerful, but Edward ignored it and made his way to his boyfriend where he could properly snuggle and feel that blessed beard against his skin for a moment. Thankfully, Étienne was never one to deny any sort of physical touch and wrapped his arms around him, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

 There was a reason as to why Edward had chosen this particular time to visit. For starters, he absolutely did not want to miss out on the beard and with the playoffs wrapping up shortly, he knew that his time was counted. On top of that, Edward knew how the people of Montréal took to the Habs losing this far into the playoff run and the down Étienne would feel if that happened.

 It wasn’t that Étienne’s mood solely depended and fluctuated because of the hockey, but with so many people being emotionally vested in the team, their winning or losing would ultimately have an impact on Étienne. Now if they won, well, Edward wanted to live vicariously through it. Plus, there was something quite wonderful in an Étienne who was that jubilant and ecstatic. However, if the Habs lost, Edward wanted to be there for emotional support and also to make sure that the slump wouldn’t eventually tie in with one of Étienne’s own spectacular, unrelated to hockey, depressive episodes.

 “Plans for the day?” He asked, perfectly comfortable in the crook of Étienne’s neck.

 “Well, funny you should ask,” Étienne started and Edward had visions of intense biking up the mountain in the oppressive humidity or something as ridiculously insane, “I – have an errand to run, but I don’t want to impose on you.” For some reason, Étienne sounded a little nervous about this errand and Edward didn’t understand why.

 “So? Go run your errand. I can come with you if you need help.” So long as it didn’t involve standing in the scorching heat, he was fine.

 “No, no it’s fine! I appreciate you wanting to help – but, I don’t want to bother you, really.”

 Edward stepped back and took a good look at his boyfriend’s face. Something was up.

 It took him a moment, but then it clicked.

 It had to be one of his ridiculous pre-game rituals he had completely forgotten about. He almost groaned. Étienne was anal about his rituals to bring the Habs good luck. Downright neurotic, really and Edward had been victim to many séances of Étienne doing the most ridiculous of things that he swore would help his team win. (To be honest, Edward did wonder, deep down, if maybe Étienne wasn’t on to something, considering the fact that the Habs had won 24 cups in their history, but he wasn’t about to say any of that out loud.)

 “Do I want to know what crazy task you’re going to do?” He asked.

 Étienne gave him another nervous smile and tugged on his beard, “It’s not that crazy, really...” He murmured and Edward feared for the worst.

 “What is it this time? Putting your left sock on before you’re right one? Talking to your posters? Building a puck pyramid? Prepare a specific meal?”

 “Please, that was last night and this morning. I need to go to the Oratory.”

 Edward’s face blanched. Of course Étienne would go to the Oratory. He had forgotten all about it.

 “You’re kidding.”

 Étienne scoffed, “I am not kidding, Édouard. This is very serious. I need to make my pilgrimage to the Oratory, climb the steps on my knees and then light up a candle for the Habs’ victory tonight.”

 Edward remained silent. He knew better than to argue or say anything about it. Étienne took his rituals very seriously.

 “My issue is that you flew all the way to spend time with me and I don’t want you to think I’m just abandoning you.”

 “Don’t worry about me,” Edward said with a chuckle, as he finally decided to grab a mug that didn’t have a Habs banner, a players number or Youppi’s face on it, and poured himself some coffee, “You go do whatever it is you need to do and I’ll acquaint myself with your glorious pool.”

 “Are you sure?” Étienne twirled the hem of his shirt around his thumb and followed after Edward when he headed for the table.

 “More than sure. I don’t want to be held responsible for your team losing if you don’t complete your set of rituals. Plus, I’ll be fine here and I can spend more time with Mercury.”

 “Sure?” Étienne asked again.

 “Yes. I promise.” It wasn’t as if Étienne would be out for the entire day anyways.

 “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!” Étienne was careful not to topple the coffee out of his hands, but still wrapped Edward in a tight hug.

 --

 In all honesty, Edward was a little overwhelmed to be sitting in the Bell Centre. There were so many people and so many lights that it was quite dizzying. After over a year of leading a quiet life at home, this felt like too much too soon, but at the same time, the energy was electrifying.

 “Can you believe that the last time I was here for a final, you were also here?” Étienne said excitedly as they settled into their seats. It was crazy to think that Étienne looked tame in comparison to some other fans in the arena, even if he was wearing one of his many Habs jerseys, his Habs pants, his Habs shoes and most likely other articles of clothing he couldn’t see.

 “Really?” Edward thought about it for a moment, “Shit, you’re right – so does that make me a lucky charm?” He joked, “Do you need to rub my head for good luck?” He laughed, but then when he saw the serious look on his boyfriend’s face he stopped. Étienne looked at him and seemed to be debating this for a moment. He had definitely shot himself in the foot with that idea.

 “Better off not taking any chances,” Étienne said as he rubbed Edward’s head for good measure, much to Edward’s chagrin.

 “Are you happy now?” He asked, when Étienne was done.

 “Maybe. I would’ve been happier if you would have let me dress you for the occasion. You’ve got to be the only person here who’s not wearing something Habs on them.” He pouted.

 Étienne had offered to lend him anything from a tank top to a signed jersey, with everything in between, but Edward had refused. For as much as he enjoyed being at the arena, there were still team loyalties he had to respect and that would be going too far.

 “No I’m not, look, there’s a few people wearing Tampa jerseys.” He pointed out.

 Étienne didn’t seem to think he was very funny, “That’s not the point, Édouard!”

 “Fine, but look, I wore a white shirt – this is as far as I’ll go.” It was a neutral colour and – well, both of their teams had white somewhere in their jerseys.

 “Tampa is playing in white.”

 There was no winning this one.

 “My jeans are blue and my blood is red?” He tried and he only got a death glare in response.

 --

 The one thing Edward had always loved about watching a game with Étienne, regardless of whether it was a season or playoff game, was that Étienne knew a lot about hockey – more precisely the Habs and he loved to share his knowledge – especially when he was stressed. (Not that Étienne ever admitted to being stressed about a game.) It was endearing the way he would blabber on and all Edward had to do was listen.

 “This has been such a crazy playoff run,” He started, “Like – no one expected them to come this far and it’s been such a boost to the morale of the city. For as much as hockey has its issues, it also brings people together, and I wish there was more of that. Walking around the city these past few weeks has been something else. You meet people and hear their stories – about how they got into the game – where they’re coming from, who they’re here with. It’s beautiful. Kids who are living their first real playoff run. Older people who remember 93, 86 and the runs in the 60s and 70s. It’s been surreal! I’m just – I love these people – my people and the way they’ve just run with this as well. Hoisting orange cones as Cups and living the magic.”

 “I know it might end tonight, but whatever happens – it’s been such a great run. I mean, obviously, it would be really great not to get swept. That would just – no. Do you know that the last time the Habs were swept in the final was in 1952? I don’t think the people would be able to handle that. You don’t make it to the final to get swept. Tampa can go and win at home, but to be swept?! No thanks.”

 Edward knew all too well about being swept. At least the Habs had – avenged the Oilers. He supposed.

 “And, also, on that note, do you know that the Habs only ever lost the cup once at home?”

 “Did they now?” Out of their twenty-four that was quite the feat, really.

 “Yes! And you’ll never believe what team did it!”

 For some reason, Edward felt like he did know, yet the answer escaped him at the moment.

 “The friggin Flames! I had to sit and watch Calvin’s stupid face light up like a goddamned Christmas tree when they won. I never thought I was going to live that one down!”

 Now he remembered.

 To be honest, he’d tried to forget.

 It had been the most awkward of times, really.

 For starters, Étienne had invited him to come watch the game with him. He’d agreed. If it meant spending more time with Étienne, he would’ve gone anywhere. Had gone to many places.

 He’d just – forgotten one minor detail.

 Calvin.

 This was the second time, really, that the Habs and the Flames had met for the final. The first time had been awkward as well. In its own way. It wasn’t even with the fact that he was – involved with Étienne and Calvin was his friend and could not know about his involvement with Étienne.

 It had – more to do with the fact that – the Flames had – impeded Gretzky and the Oilers from getting their third cup. He’d been – resentful to say the least.

 Yet, Étienne had hesitated going out to Calgary to see them team, but then Calvin had asked him to convince Étienne to go. As a power move? To show off? He’d never bothered finding out. But, Edward had spun the idea to Étienne, telling him that wouldn’t it be nice to see the Habs extinguish the insufferable Flames at home?

 Étienne had agreed.

 They’d gone.

 The Habs had won.

 And Calvin – hadn’t even really cared.

 His victory had been in beating the Oilers.

 The bastard.

 1989, however...

 Shortly after Étienne had invited him, Calvin had reached out, saying that wouldn’t it be nice to go out and watch the game in Montreal. He had seats with the execs in their special section and they could make a whole trip out of it! Heck, the Flames might even win the cup! And – wouldn’t that be something! The Cup back in Alberta!

 It had been very hard for Edward to tell Calvin that he already had Other Plans. Yet, without missing a beat, Calvin had told him that he should totally tell Étienne to come watch with them and that Edward didn’t need to worry about lodging, as they could share the hotel suite together.

 He forgot exactly what he’d ended up telling both Calvin and Étienne, but somehow or other, the three of them had found themselves sitting in Calvin’s section, while Étienne had grumbled all along about having better seats than whatever this garbage was.

 It only went from bad to worse as the Flames won and Calvin all but gloated, while Étienne threatened to set the city on fire. It wasn’t that Étienne had accused him of throwing him off, but Étienne had reminded him, more than once, that clearly, because he hadn’t been able to sit at his usual seat, the Habs had lost.

 (Again, Étienne was anal about his superstitions and rituals.)

 “Well, here’s hoping they don’t lose at home and get swept. Good vibes only,” Edward told his boyfriend before Étienne could get in a tizzy.

 “Yes, you’re right. Anyways, it’s sort of thanks to the before last game against the Oilers we’re here anyways. Habs needed one point to assure their spot and that tie brought them to the playoffs, even if they lost in overtime. It made sure the Flames couldn’t sneak in, so, thanks? I guess?”

 Edward chuckled remembering that particular video call.

 “See, I told you, good luck charm.”

 For good measure, Étienne rubbed his head again.

 --

 It was hard not to get wrapped up in the game, regardless of who was playing, even if it wasn’t his team. This was a playoff final game and both teams were trying their best to win. Even though the first ten minutes or so made it seem as though Tampa was going to finish this off without mercy, the Habs, somehow, managed to take the lead twice. Étienne kept on saying that some of the ghosts had clearly finally arrived and that some miracle had been cast on them by the three legends watching from the box.

 Regardless of what it was that had brought the score to 2-2 with few minutes left, Étienne was clutching his arm like a lifeline and Edward was convinced there would be marks there when his boyfriend would let go.

 “Please, please, please, please, PLEASE,” He chanted as the puck went one way and then the other. He clutched Edward’s arm even tighter whenever Tampa got close to scoring and whenever the Habs missed a shot.

 It finally seemed as though the Cinderella run would come to the end with that last double penalty, which continued in over-time, yet somehow or other, the Habs managed to kill it and then, by another miracle, or maybe a clever game of pass-the-puck, managed to score in over-time.

 Considering the fact that there were only three-thousand-five-hundred people in the Bell Centre, the resulting collective scream made it feel as though the place was packed to the brims.

 Edward got swept up in the momentum of it all and found himself standing with all the other Habs fanatics, yelling and screaming.

 When he turned to look at Étienne, his boyfriend looked jubilant and ecstatic. It was such a good look on him and it made Edward’s insides warm at the sight. Étienne deserved to feel this happy all the time, really. If there were a few tears at the corner of Étienne’s eyes, it only made him look lovelier and Edward did his best to school his face in the most platonic of smiles.

 “They live!” Étienne yelled over the continued shouting, “They did it!” He said, even giddier as he kept on jumping up and down, waving his playoff flag with all the other people in the Bell Centre.

 It was magical, really – living a playoff run like this one. He was glad he could be part of it – somehow, even if it was only for the last stretch of it.

 --

 “You know, no matter what happens next, I’m at peace. They fought and they’ve kept fighting from day one and – of course I want them to win. God, I want it so bad, but I’m just – really glad they brought it to game 5. And – I like to believe that – that they’ll be back. For game six. I’m just – I’m happy.” Étienne said, voice thick with emotions as they finally managed to step out of the Bell Centre. Some of the earlier euphoria and adrenaline had tempered down and Étienne was a little calmer by now.

 “If any team can do it at this point, it’s certainly yours.”

 Étienne beamed at him as they walked down the street, away from the crowds still chanting and yelling and celebrating, off the beaten path for a longer way home, if only for some fresh air and a quieter moment to re-center themselves.

 “Yeah – you’re right,” He trailed off with a small smile. Étienne made to grab his hand, but knowing that there were still so many people out, he let their fingers brush against each other instead. “Everyone’s so happy – so proud of the city... I hope the feeling lasts.”

 Edward made a quick grab for his hand and gave it a squeeze, before letting go. He wanted to tell him that the hockey didn’t matter. That this city was more than just a glorious hockey history. That he was proud of him. Of what he’d done. Everything he’d worked for outside of hockey. For himself. For the city as well. And that he had more worth than he realised. To him. To others. But – that was a talk for later. Right now, it was time to enjoy the moment – bask in it. Celebrate the victory.

 “Let’s go home, yeah? I want to celebrate with you.”

 Edward nodded and kept step with him as they made their way back to Étienne’s place, where once safely behind closed doors, they could properly celebrate together.

 FIN

[randomoranges]

woohoo! the last xmas fic is DONE. it’s shorter than the others and honestly, i got the idea one morning and it was just of this scene of et hugging ed dressed up as santa. and like that was it. and then it sorta built from there. this one is short - it’s like just the One Scene but it’s fine. not errthing needs to be 400000000 pages long with backstory and whatnot. this just is.

like sometimes you just need to write a soft scene without strings attached. 

oh also, this could go with the KK universe because of like One Line lamao

and you get to decide who the kids belong to ;) (there’s the og intent and then like The What If i got while writing it lamao)

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus [Santa Baby]

 Étienne laughed and looked up (and up and up) into beautiful hazel eyes, “You did such a marvelous job tonight, my love.” He wrapped his arms tighter around his partner’s shoulders and rose on his tippy toes (and wasn’t that a silent thrill), before he pulled down part of the synthetic beard and placed the softest of kisses to the corner of Edward’s lips, “Thank you so much for stepping in for my dad.”

 Edward looked down to Étienne’s smiling face and held him closer to him, basking in his good mood, “You sure? D’you think the kids fell for it?” His reward was another kiss and if Edward kissed him back, if Edward let himself be swept up in the moment, if Edward held him close, it was alright – the guests were gone, the kids were asleep and it was just the two of them in the entrance of their home, wrapped around each other.

 “Of course they did – they’re three and four – all they saw was a jovial Santa Claus that handed them presents, ate the cookies they decorated and drank the milk they poured for you – and now they’re fast asleep dreaming pleasant Christmas dreams; you were perfect.” He reiterated and if Edward’s cheeks seemed a little pinker, he could say it had to do with the makeup Élyse had applied to his cheeks hours before, “I’ll show you the photos later – they’re worth it – they’ll be perfect for the photo album.”

 Normally, Mr. Maisonneuve played Santa for the kids, but he hadn’t been feeling well and they were going to simply scrap Santa’s visit this year (Jacques had already been on the letter that would explain the situation), when Edward had volunteered. The kids deserved a Santa and he had enough theatre experience to pull it off.  

 Élyse had ushered him to the guestroom to help him into costume and then had added the finishing touches with the makeup. The kids had been too busy being entertained by Étienne to notice that Edward had gone MIA and then before they knew it, there was someone knocking at the door. (They had no chimney, it was a good alternative.)

 “And you were so good in those platforms,” Étienne cooed, twirling a strand of curly white synthetic hair around a finger, “Thank you so much,” Edward felt a little hot under his red velvet collar and it had nothing to do with the praise. Seeing as Edward wasn’t exactly on the tall side – or at least, not as tall as Mr. Maisonneuve, a pair of platform shoes had been found for Edward to wear underneath the boot cover ups. His first few steps had been wobbly, but he had quickly adapted.

 “You forget that I used to wear five inch heels between three to four days a week for fun.” They both laughed at that and Edward kept Étienne close, in this little bubble of warmth and happiness, for just a little longer. The night was still relatively young, it was officially Christmas, and he liked the feel of Étienne close to him – he liked being able to see the green of his eyes and the crinkle of his nose when he laughed.

 “I know, but you still played a very convincing Santa and I’m just – really glad you’re here with me for the holidays.”

 Edward tried very hard not to let the words affect him, but it was hard to do when Étienne was looking at him so earnestly and tenderly. It was hard to do when his partner said such sincere things without being prompted. It reminded him that he was lucky and very thankful for everything he had. “And you were a very good Santa helper,” He said, changing the subject, as he pushed back a long curl of Étienne’s hair behind his ear, “You were very nice this year as well,” He continued, whispering in Étienne’s ear, using the new height the platforms gave him to his advantage to crowd over Étienne a little (he knew how much Étienne was enjoying this – he liked it too, to be honest – it was better than the stairs), “You deserve a present as well,” He added, nibbling on his partner’s earlobe. Étienne squirmed in his arms and let out a breathless laugh that only warmed Edward’s body even more.

 “Well, if you want to be so generous...” Étienne trailed off, stepping away from the embrace to tug Edward towards the stairs, where the bedroom was, Edward following quickly behind – he’d follow Étienne anywhere.

 FIN