Well Well Well If It Isn't The Consequences Novels & Stories

“There could be consequences we don’t fully understand.” “I don’t care,” I said immediately. And I meant it.

replied Wayne with a grin. As they walked towards the terminal, Jill turned to him and teased, "See you later, my friend with benefits." "What the heck, Jill!?" Wayne whispered, shouting in disbelief. The two enjoyed a moment of giggles as they bid farewell. Jill spent her boring hours waiting for school to end. She missed almost an entire day at school, as well as the assignment that she hadn’t submitted. But wasn't it worth it to sacrifice a moment of ephemeral glee? Jill thought about it while waiting. In the end, there wasn't any sign of regret. After all, regrets only happen if there's a sense of losing or sadness, and she didn't feel anything like that today.

“One at a time?” Lucas asked. The woman smiled faintly. “One class at a time.” Better. Jonathan built categories. TYPE A: OBJECT/ENVIRONMENTAL PHYSICAL CONSEQUENCE Potentially safe realization. TYPE B: HUMAN-INJURY CONSEQUENCE WITHOUT UNIQUE IDENTITY DEPENDENCE May be convertible into nonhuman physical realization. TYPE C: IDENTITY/RELATIONSHIP DEPENDENT CONSEQUENCE Requires case-specific review. TYPE D: SYSTEMIC/SOCIETAL CONSEQUENCE High risk.

And in this world, those words held real-life consequences. I bit my lip, grinding my teeth hard as I shoved away from him, and when I walked toward the door, he called out softly, so softly that I felt the threat worse than if he’d pressed a knife to my throat. “Don’t think to run, Aela. If you do, the consequences will be a thousand times worse.” The statement, and that he’d felt he had to repeat the warning, had me shoving the Velcro-ed sheets that acted as a doorway open, dashing out of the freaky clinic I was sitting in, and running to the bathroom so I could puke my guts out.

Because he wanted to remind me how easy it was to decide for me. “That’s the mistake,” he continued. “You think wanting makes this shared. It doesn’t.” My throat worked. “Then what is it?” His mouth curved—not into a smile, but into something colder. Final. “It’s consequence,” he said quietly. “You needed something to quiet what you’re carrying. I’m letting you believe this will do it.” The word didn’t just land — it branded. Consequence meant he could absolve himself of responsibility. It meant intention no longer mattered, only outcome. It meant he could hurt me without seeing himself as cruel, because cruelty implied choice — and he had already decided this was necessity.

Don't ask how can I return it if he doesn't want to just glance at me. I seem better at scolding and scolding than being ignored as it hurts. Even though it is only a trivial matter, just because you are late remembering being late is not breaking a promise. even though at that time the situation did not permit, how about this? He hasn't even suffered the consequences of yesterday's mistakes? The problem is not the consequence of her mistakes but rather the mandate that Mrs. Nunung has given. Oh my God! "Honey, lately I see you are not very excited."

And what followed would not be chaos— but consequence.

he smiled, and then we left. This won't be easy. Not easy at all. I can already imagine Sean freaking out, wanting to know who the guy is, and my dad being disappointed in me. I don't want to have to take this, I can't have a child now, but I can't take him away because it will be against everything my mother taught me. I'm really not ready for this kind of responsibility and Justin? What am I going to do to get to him and tell him that I am pregnant with his child? Damn it, now I have to take responsibility for my actions. My consequences.

“I do.” “And it doesn't matter how messy everything else is, or how complicated things are with Phoebe, or what our fathers want. None of that makes this… smart.” His voice fell a bit, tired and frustrated. “We're not being careful any more. We barely talk about it. We just fall into it.” He wasn’t wrong. “And we can't pretend like there aren't consequences,” he added. “Because there are. Too many. And we can’t just keep crossing lines because it feels good at the moment.”

Stacey sinks at me. “People keep on telling me that, can you tell me what it means?” “That means,” Yohanne inserted, “You can do basically everything here. There’s no law here. There’s no right and wrong. There are also no real consequences that are going to project in the real world,” She says while chewing some chips served on the table.