Un Accro

Huuuuuuuu, here you go.

I'm glad the phone conversation went well. Also, Affie and Rysha, the reason no safe word was used will soon be explained.

Oh, I also was thinking, Shirosaki isn't in this story at all, and I don't know how to squeeze him in. What do you all think? Do you even want to see him?

--Get down to brass tacks--

Ichigo’s week was going rather well. He was in a much better mood than usual, although there seemed to be less hollow activity going on, so his days weren’t interrupted, which always frustrated him. Getting laid was probably also a large factor in his mood.

Shinji had fucked him in the boys’ bathroom just that morning and Ichigo could feel the blonde’s eyes on him throughout class. Strangely, though, he wasn’t self-conscious at all about it.

Monday seemed impossibly far away, the strange hollow attack and his resulting condition feeling like months had passed since then, even though in reality it was only a few days.

And now it was Friday, and he really hoped that he’d get to spend the weekend getting fucked in every position known to man. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? Not to mention, Shinji was getting very inventive with his reiatsu manipulation, making each experience just that much more intense for Ichigo.

Meanwhile, the blonde in question was brooding over what to tell the redhead. Given the way things were going, he didn’t think that Ichigo would turn down the opportunity to have a threesome, but if the teen knew what they were trying, he probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea.

They were going to hold onto Ichigo the entire weekend and find out the extent of his reiatsu addiction, which Ichigo seemed rather oblivious to. Not that that was surprising in the least.

It would probably help Ichigo deal with it if the teen could just learn to control his own reiatsu, but Shinji and Urahara weren’t exactly looking for miracles. They just knew that such an addiction could be dangerous, and wanted to figure out every possible way to protect Ichigo from falling prey to his someone who might not be as concerned with Ichigo’s overall well being as they were.

They were both antsy for school to let out, though for rather different reasons. Ichigo assumed that he would get to go home with Shinji again (though he felt almost a little guilty for lying to his father about doing homework with a classmate) so they could fuck. He had no idea that Shinji was actually planning on taking him to Urahara’s and running him through a couple of experiments.

Shinji reasoned with himself that it was for the boy’s own good. Never mind that he liked to see Ichigo writhe and moan and come from just the force of his reiatsu.

After the bell rang, he met Ichigo outside the front steps to school.

“Hey, Ichi, slight change of plans today,” Shinji said, falling into step with the teen.

Ichigo looked at him with a bit of suspicion. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I just need to stop by Urahara’s is all,” Shinji said, only telling half of the truth. Ichigo was, in all likelihood, going to be pissed. There was just no way around it.

“Alright,” Ichigo said, wondering what Shinji could possibly need from the shop. Maybe they’d run out of strawberry lube.

When they got to Urahara’s, it seemed that Tessai, Ururu and Jinta had left for the day. It seemed more likely than the three of them being eerily quiet, Ichigo thought, sitting down at the kitchen table with Shinji while Urahara made some tea.

“Well, Ichigo, I’m glad you could stop by.”

“Uh-huh,” Ichigo said, helping himself to the senbei laid out on a plate at the center of the table. He wondered how long they were going to be there.

“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you agreed to stay for the weekend.”

Ichigo looked up in surprise. “What?” he asked incredulously around a mouthful of food.

They both looked at Shinji at the same time, who looked uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“Shinji, you told me Ichigo knew about this weekend,” Urahara said slowly.

Ichigo was still staring at the blonde, wondering if he ought to start making a run for it. “What the fuck is he talking about?” Ichigo demanded after swallowing the rest of the cracker.

“Well, you know,” Shinji said, trying to smile, “I thought we could mix things up a bit by coming here instead.”

Urahara rolled his eyes. “According to Shinji, you’re becoming addicted to reiatsu, Kurosaki-kun.”

“He’s not just becoming addicted, he’s already there,” Shinji argued.

Ichigo looked floored. “What the hell are you talking about?” Yeah, what Shinji did to him felt good, but he wasn’t by any means addicted.

“Now, Shinji, we don’t know that for sure,” Urahara said before turning to Ichigo. “That’s why I wanted the two of you to come over this weekend, just to see if Shinji’s hypothesis is correct.”

“I—I think I would know if I was addicted to reiatsu.”

“The first stage is denial, you know,” Shinji said.

“The first stage of what?” Ichigo asked angrily, standing up. Now was probably a good time to start running, he realized, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

“Now, Ichigo, let’s not be too hasty,” Urahara said in what he must have thought was a soothing voice. “I can assure you, the weekend will be enjoyable for all of us.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, inching backwards, “if you guys don’t mind, I’ll pass.”

Shinji and Urahara shared a conspiratorial look. Ichigo barely had time to blink until he was slammed to the floor underneath the force of two simultaneous kidou.

“Well,” Urahara said, snapping his fan out and hiding a smile behind it. “That was probably a little more force than was really necessary.”

“Don’t make that face, Ichigo,” Shinji said, rising from the table and walking to where Ichigo lay face down on the floor. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

“Goddammit, let me go,” Ichigo snarled, craning his neck to glare at them.

“You’re not going anywhere for a while,” Urahara said. “Shinji, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not have to carry him to the bedroom.”

“Yeah,” Shinji said, and Ichigo felt the pressed pinning him down halve, but his arms were still bound tightly behind his back with Urahara’s kidou.

The blonde shopkeeper stepped forward to help him stand. Ichigo started fighting the moment he was on his feet, but without the use of his arms, he couldn’t do much, and he ended up losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. Right where he fucking started, or close enough anyway.

“Shit,” Shinji said, sounding almost impressed. “Can’t you give him something to make him more cooperative?”

Shock and fury battled for dominance on Ichigo’s face. He couldn’t believe Shinji was suggesting Urahara actually drug him.

“Well of course I do,” Urahara said, hoisting Ichigo up on his feet again. “But that ruins the fun.”

“You’re not fucking drugging me,” Ichigo hissed angrily, trying to cover up the fear that was starting to creep up on him.

“We’re not going to drug you, Ichigo, calm down,” Shinji said, coming closer. He easily dodged when Ichigo threw a kick at him.

“That’s not very nice, Ichigo,” Urahara chided. “Now, why don’t you behave yourself, and come with us quietly?”

“Like hell I will,” Ichigo snarled, trying to twist out of Urahara’s grasp.

Shinji’s grin widened, seeing a familiar look in the shopkeeper’s eyes. Of course, Ichigo couldn’t see it, but even if he could, he didn’t know Urahara well enough to know what it entailed. Shinji had been on the receiving end of that look before, and he knew it meant Urahara was thinking of something really evil.

“Well, if you insist on misbehaving like a recalcitrant child, we’ll just have to punish you like one, won’t we?”

Shinji nearly couldn’t contain his glee. Ichigo noticed the look on his face and felt cold dread sink into the pit of his stomach. The blonde looked like not only had Christmas come early, but his birthday and New Year’s, too. But Urahara couldn’t possibly mean what Ichigo thought he meant. That was just fucked, and he wasn’t just going to sit there and stand for it.

“I’m serious, let me go,” Ichigo demanded, squirming a bit more. He refused to budge an inch when Urahara tried to get him any closer to the door that led to the rest of the shop. No. Fucking. Way.

“Shinji, could you get his legs for me?” Urahara asked, talking right over Ichigo.

Shinji rolled his eyes, but still grabbed one of Ichigo’s ankles when then teen tried to kick him again, before reaching down and grabbing the other one. Ichigo was certainly making himself hard to hold on to; he was thrashing about like an eel between them, determined to escape.

“Don’t look like that, Shinji,” Urahara said with a smile. “We’ve got all weekend to convince him that he really wants to be here.

“Let’s gag him until he’s past the death threat stage. That shit gets old fast.”

Urahara laughed. “I don’t know, I think Ichigo is rather imaginative; it could be entertaining.”

Shinji dropped Ichigo’s legs unceremoniously when they reached the door to Urahara’s room so he could slide open the screen. He then helped the other blonde carry Ichigo to the futon where they laid him down on his stomach.

“Well,” Shinji said, not bothering to try and cover up his excitement, “what first?”

“You heard what I said about misbehaving, didn’t you?” Urahara asked, eyeing Ichigo hungrily.

Ichigo definitely did not like where this conversation was going.

“I sure did,” Shinji said.

“If you can help me get him undressed I’ll even let you do the honors.”

Shinji snorted but knelt down by Ichigo, making short work of the boy’s pants despite all of his thrashing.

“What do you want me to do about his shirt?” Shinji asked, once he had Ichigo bare from the waist down.

Ichigo felt absolutely humiliated. No matter how hard he fought, or how loud he yelled (and, just as Urahara predicted, he had come up with some pretty inventive death threats) he was well and truly screwed. Literally.

“Fuck, just stop,” Ichigo begged when Urahara suggested just unbuttoning his shirt and Shinji moved to do just that.

The blonde’s fingers hesitated, hearing something dangerously close to breaking in Ichigo’s voice. He gently turned Ichigo’s face to his and kissed the teen slowly.

“We’re just having fun, Ichi,” Shinji said gently when he pulled away. “I absolutely promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ichigo demanded. At least he could have prepared for this.

“Actually, Ichigo,” Urahara interjected as Shinji started to speak, “he was supposed to tell you. Perhaps it just… slipped his mind.”

Shinji felt his face heat up, but he tried to hold his composure in front of Ichigo. Urahara, while the only person able to embarrass him (which the shopkeeper did, and often), wasn’t going to get the best of him this time.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” Shinji admitted, running a hand through Ichigo’s hair, pleased when the teen’s eyelashes fluttered a little at the sensation.

“And you really think I’m addicted to reiatsu.”

Shinji looked to Urahara for help, but found none. “Yeah, we’re just… concerned about you. Have you thought about what someone else might do with that information?”

“You mean like one of the Espada,” Ichigo concluded, his stomach twisting in knots at the idea.

“I was thinking more along the lines of Aizen,” Shinji said, “but yeah, the Arrancar, too. They’d most definitely use it against you.”

“Does this kind of thing happen often?” Ichigo asked, finally relaxing under Shinji’s soft touches, though he was still acutely aware of his partial nudity.

“It’s the first case I’ve ever heard of,” Urahara said. “It probably has something to do with that wound. So, you could just be addicted to Shinji, or reiatsu in general. That’s what we’re trying to find out this weekend.”

“And what are you planning to do to me, exactly?” Ichigo asked, apprehensive.

“You know if anything we do bothers you, Ichigo, you can just use your safe word, and we’ll stop.”

“What’s a safe word?” Ichigo asked, feeling Shinji stiffen behind him.

Urahara was quiet for a long moment and Ichigo tried to turn his head to see, but wasn’t quite able to.

“Shinji,” Urahara said, his voice very even, and very calm, causing a shiver to run down Ichigo’s spine. The teen had a feeling Shinji was in trouble; he’d never heard Urahara sound like that before. “You don’t mean to tell me that you’ve been playing with Ichigo without a safe word, do you?”

Shinji swallowed thickly. “Well, that one did actually, uh, slip my mind,” the blonde said, wondering what on earth he was going to do with a pissed of Kisuke in the same hemisphere as him.

“I still don’t understand what a safe word is,” Ichigo complained, breaking the stillness.

Surprisingly, it was Shinji who spoke up first. “It’s a word you would use… to stop me if things got too intense, or if you weren’t… enjoying yourself.”

“I—saying ‘stop’ isn’t enough?” Ichigo asked incredulously.

“With the games we like to play, Ichigo,” Urahara explained, “sometimes ‘no’ really means ‘yes’, so it’s important to have a word that you wouldn’t usually call out in pleasure, to signal that you want the scene to end.”

“And you want me to believe that you guys would actually stop,” Ichigo said, rolling his eyes. How fucking gullible did they think he was?

Urahara gave Shinji another hard look, wondering exactly what the other blonde had been up to with Ichigo in just a few short days to give the teen that impression. “We would,” Urahara said, and Ichigo stilled at the seriousness in his voice.

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo thought maybe Urahara might actually listen to him, but none of his experiences with Shinji suggested the younger looking blonde would do the same.

“Of course I’d honor any word you choose, Ichigo,” Shinji said, voice subdued. And honestly, that was one of the reasons he hadn’t told Ichigo about it from the beginning, because he knew he’d stop the moment Ichigo asked, while he could just ignore words like stop and no.

“Well it seems like some punishment is in order,” Urahara said, voice still serious.

Ichigo groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“I wasn’t talking about you Ichigo,” Urahara said with some of his characteristic amusement sliding back into his voice. “But if you’re interested, I’ll certainly oblige.”

Ichigo blinked owlishly in surprised. Next to him, Shinji was quiet and still.

“Shinji, if you could fetch enough ropes for the two of you? You know where they are.”

Ichigo felt the kidou binding his arms dissolve the moment Shinji left. Tenderly, Ichigo sat up and rubbed the protesting muscles in his arms and shoulders.

Shinji came back in carrying a plain wooden box. He handed it to Urahara and, without being told, started to undress. He put his clothes in the same neat pile as Ichigo’s and went to sit next to the teen on the futon.

Ichigo couldn’t quite bring himself to look at the other Vaizard. He felt a little betrayed, along with a jumble of other emotions he couldn’t separate long enough to identify. Suddenly cold, Ichigo pulled his open shirt a bit tighter around himself.

Ichigo watched as Urahara pulled out a sleep mask and two long lengths of black rope, setting one aside and turning to the two of them.

Urahara started with Shinji, slipping the mask over the Vaizard’s eyes. Ichigo noticed how Shinji’s breath instantly quickened, a shiver wracking his whole body. Urahara placed a tender kiss against Shinji’s neck before starting with the rope, carefully wrapping the black length around the other blonde in an intricate pattern, making sure to loop some of the rope around the base of Shinji’s cock.

“Kneel,” Urahara said gently, his entire face serious and intent.

Ichigo watched in amazement as Shinji rose up onto his knees, letting his wrists being guided between his legs to be tied to his ankles. Ichigo couldn’t stop the shivers running through him now if he tried, and it looked like Shinji couldn’t either.

Urahara finally tied the end of the rope off and sat back slightly to examine it, testing it to make sure it was snug, but not too tight.

“Alright?” Urahara asked, stroking Shinji’s hip. The bound blonde nodded. “Why don’t you tell Ichigo what your safe word is?”

“Black,” Shinji said, his voice shaking slightly.

“And your slow word?”

“Fade.”

Ichigo watched apprehensively as Urahara went back to the other rope, pulling another blindfold out of the box.

“Alright, shirt off, Ichigo.”

Ichigo scrambled to obey. If this were any other situation, he probably would have balked at any order Urahara tried to give him, but something about the tension in the room told him that would be a bad idea.

Urahara knelt in front of him and pulled the teen in for a kiss, meant for comfort. When it ended, Urahara kept their foreheads pressed together, one hand playing in Ichigo’s hair. “Have you decided on a safe word?”

Ichigo swallowed thickly, casting his mind about for ideas.

“Check,” he said finally, thinking of chess. In a fit of madness (or more madness than usual, anyway), Isshin had decided to take up chess and had made Ichigo play him over and over again, always losing spectacularly, but pressuring Ichigo to keep playing until he won. It hadn’t happened; Ichigo had finally just stormed off.

“And a slow word? If you don’t want to stop, but need a little breather.”

“Pin.”

“Alright,” Urahara said. “I’m going to blindfold you now. So just relax. I’m not leaving you two for even a second, okay?”

“Okay,” Ichigo conceded, letting the blindfold be slipped over his eyes without fuss. He was still shaking a little, but Urahara’s hands were warm and the texture of the rope surprisingly smooth on his skin.

“Cold?”

“No, just nervous,” Ichigo admitted.

“Don’t be,” Urahara murmured, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest before continuing with the rope work.

Ichigo tried to focus on how Urahara laid out the rope, but soon lost track, completely lost in the sensation of slowly having his mobility robbed from him. He was gently pushed down onto his back before the rope bound his arms in front of him. He almost whimpered when Urahara started tying up his cock like he had Shinji’s, hips jerking as Urahara inadvertently drove him wild with small touches.

Ichigo was panting by the time Urahara had bound his right leg to his chest, hyperaware of his surroundings.

He could hear Shinji’s labored breath beside him and the heat radiating from the blonde’s body. He could feel Urahara starting to check the ties, once again making sure nothing was too tight or too uncomfortable.

He let out a disappointed moan when the gentle touches left him. He could hear Urahara’s footsteps, half thrilled and half terrified to find out what Urahara would do to them next.

When the footsteps approached, Ichigo tensed himself for another touch, but it was Shinji who moaned, his voice high and desperate, making Ichigo moan in sympathy.

“Breathe,” he heard Urahara say, and Ichigo could hear Shinji try to get his breath under control again, with little success.

Ichigo jumped when he felt a warm, slick touch at his hole. Urahara stretched him gently, pressing soft kisses onto his thigh. The teen’s breath quickened when he felt the touch leave for the barest of seconds before returning to press what Ichigo thought at first was a plug inside of him.

He made a little startled noise when he felt it slip inside before the next, slightly larger part was pressed against his entrance. That one slipped inside of him as well and Ichigo whimpered when he realized what was being put inside of him; Urahara was slipping freaking gradated anal beads into his hole, gently pressing them in one by one until Ichigo felt strange and full. Then, Urahara turned it on.

Ichigo felt his skin brush against Shinji’s as he convulsed, and distantly, he heard the blonde moan. He was still writhing despite the soothing touches rubbing circles against his thighs, ass clenching around the strange intrusion.

“Let go, Ichigo,” Urahara said gently.

Ichigo had no idea what Urahara could possibly be talking about, thrashing about in the ropes until he had to fall back, exhausted and trembling, and just take it. It hit Ichigo like a fist in the gut that he was well and truly stuck, he was completely at Urahara’s mercy and there was nothing he could do with the sensations being afforded him but just experience them, trusting Urahara to not let him hurt himself.

“There we go,” Urahara said approvingly, and Ichigo felt strangely warmed by the words, the heat intensifying as Urahara leaned down to kiss him.

Ichigo completely lost track of where Urahara was after that, the vibrations rocking him distracting him from being able to concentrate on anything other than the press of beads inside of him.

A second later, he heard a slap and his body jerked, expecting a stinging sensation to go along with it, but he heard Shinji cry out and realized what was happening. Urahara was—Ichigo didn’t know, couldn’t match the sounds with a word—striking Shinji with something, and Shinji begged, saying please, no and stop, but never once uttering his safe word.

Ichigo jerked like each strike was stinging his flesh, whimpering in sympathetic agony. After a long time, the striking sounds ceased and Ichigo and Shinji both lay there, panting heavily, Shinji’s breath hitching every now and then.

“Do you have something to say to Ichigo?” Urahara asked, voice very gentle. Ichigo couldn’t see it, but the blonde shopkeeper was running his hands over Shinji’s quivering skin, soothing the Vaizard silently.

“Ah—” Shinji said, voice ragged, trembling, “Ichigo.”

Ichigo’s hips jerked at the tone in the blonde’s voice, wishing so badly that the tantalizing brush of rope against his cock wasn’t what was also holding him back from orgasm.

“Go on, be specific,” Urahara encouraged.

Shinji bit his lip, knowing he had to apologize, wanting to even, but still finding it hard. He just wasn’t the sort of person who said ‘sorry’, no matter the circumstances. “I—for playing with you, and not letting you pick a safe word, I… I’m sorry.”

Ichigo heard Shinji cry out after that, but it didn’t seem to be from pain. In actuality, Urahara was running his thumb over the head of Shinji’s cock, smearing precome over the head.

“Ichigo?” Urahara asked, his attentions still on Shinji.

“It’s… alright,” Ichigo said, not entirely sure what Urahara expected him to say. “I forgive you.”

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard. Now Shinji, I asked you over here to help me take care of Ichigo. Are you ready to do that?”

Shinji nodded and sighed in relief as the first part of him Urahara untied was his cock. The sigh quickly turned into a moan as Urahara promptly took Shinji’s aching length into his mouth.

Ichigo listened to the wet sounds of Urahara’s mouth and Shinji’s thin moans of pleasure, thrashing in his bonds and craving attention. He whimpered when Shinji came with a throaty moan, the black rope around his cock driving him a little crazy. It was quiet for long moments after that, the only sound permeating the room being Ichigo and Shinji’s ragged breathing and the soft whisper of ropes being untied.

Urahara gently helped Shinji lay on his back, soothing the muscles sore from being tied in place for so long. The shopkeeper let Shinji cling to him as the blonde came down, pressing affectionate kisses against the tips of Shinji’s fingers.

Finally, Shinji opened his eyes and sat up, his breathing back to normal. He pulled the blindfold from his eyes to be met with what had to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.

Ichigo was so tense he was quivering, the ropes binding his body contrasting beautifully against his skin. The simple looking knot work snaked in lines all over his body, but they all lead back to the teen’s straining cock, pearly fluid seeping from the tip.

“That’s some damn fine rope work,” Shinji complimented, once again sounding like his usual self. “You brought a camera, right?”

At Ichigo’s moan of indignation, Urahara quickly assuaged the teen’s fears. “Shinji’s just joking, Ichigo. Neither of us have cameras.”

“Come on, this is an experiment, right?” Shinji asked with a smile, pulling on his slacks, but leaving the rest of his clothing on the floor. “We need proper documentation.”

“What do you mean, experiment? Ichigo asked, wanting to sound indignant, but instead sounding subdued and concerned.

“Just to see if Shinji’s hypothesis is correct, that’s all,” Urahara said, kneeling down in front of the teen and stroking the inside of one pale thigh.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll be completely professional about the whole thing.”

Urahara snorted in amusement but didn’t say anything to suggest what he thought about the Vaizard and his supposed professionalism. He motioned for Shinji to sit by the bound teen’s head while he remained near Ichigo’s legs.

Gently, Shinji lifted Ichigo up by the shoulders and scooted forward so that the teen was in a partly upright position, reclining back against the blonde. Ichigo hissed at the change in sensation from the toy inside of him, the new angle shifting the beads and sending out jolts of pleasure hot enough to make him curl his toes.

“So, what first?” Shinji asked, running his nails lightly over the flushed skin of Ichigo’s chest in little circles.

“First, we get him to come,” Urahara said and Ichigo moaned at the prospect.

“Without reiatsu, I’m assuming?”

Urahara nodded, gently unwrapping Ichigo’s cock and balls. Once the ropes were out of the way, he slipped his fingers between Ichigo’s legs to press against his perineum, causing the teen to moan and buck between them.

“Seems like he’s pretty far gone already,” Shinji remarked.

Ichigo had to agree with him. He was floating in a haze of pleasure between the two men, completely immobile, essentially blind and he wanted to come. He begged his body to do it, to let him come, but it was absolutely useless, like he was trapped. Urahara started pumping his cock and Ichigo slammed his head back against Shinji’s chest, thrashing, still waiting to be thrown over the edge.

Somewhere in his hazy mind, the realization that Shinji had been right about the addiction surfacing, but was soon drowned out by his overwhelming need.

“You’re right,” Urahara said. “It’s like he needs an extra push to get him there.”

“Should I—”

“Let me try it first. It could be just a sensitivity to your reiatsu.”

Shinji nodded and shifted his grip on Ichigo a bit, watching Urahara intently.

Ichigo started thrashing and moaning in his arms, as Urahara’s reiatsu flicked against his skin, two little sparks twisting around his nipples before conjoining and racing down his quivering abdomen. The thread of reiatsu had just barely slipped past Ichigo’s navel before the boy was coming between them, jets of come painting his thighs and belly.

“Please—” Ichigo begged, not knowing at all what he needed, just knowing that he needed it and before he could formulate another word, the blindfold was coming off and Shinji was holding his face and kissing him. He could feel ties slowly coming off of him, first, the leg bound to his chest, that Urahara helped him stretch, the muscles twinging after the prolonged binding.

From there, Urahara easily removed the rest of the rope from Ichigo’s waist up, his arms coming unbound last. They didn’t hurt nearly as much as his leg had, but they were still tender. It felt wonderful to give into the attention of the two blondes; he was sleepy and their hands on his skin were sweet and soothing.

“Well,” Shinji said, “that answers that question. The thing is, what do we do now?”

“We get this under control,” Urahara replied, looking forward to quite an enjoyable weekend.

--

Again, thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to review (and thanks to those who read but are lazy like me and never bother reviewing) and I would like to encourage everyone to continue (or start) leaving feedback.

Let's see... I would say what the next chapter is, but I already closed Word, so oh well.