Datasets:
LemTenku
/
textdata

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
Community
1
text
stringlengths
0
12.4k
"Please don't tell me my little sis has a dirty mind," Bellamy groaned, closing his eyes, "it seems like only yesterday I was on the phone with her, and she was telling me about her first day." "That's because it was yesterday, Bell," Octavia finally appeared, clasping a necklace on, "and sorry, I was excited to tell you about my first day at work."
"I'm just joking," Bellamy rolled his eyes and stood up, flattening his hands on his pants, "ready?" "Yep!" Octavia chirped and then looked to Clarke, running her eyes over the girl. "Don't you think you're a little underdressed for meeting my brother?" "Well, if someone didn't use up all the hot water again..."
"I was getting ready to go out with Bellamy," Octavia pouted, "three months, Clarke, three months." "Yeah, whatever," Clarke waved her off, crossing her arms, "I just prefer a warm shower." "Hey, if you need help warming up," Bellamy snickered, giving her a wink, "just give me a call."
"Ew, we're leaving, now," Octavia said, scrunching up her nose, "see you later, Clarke." Bellamy was pulled to the door, and he couldn't help looking over his shoulder to watch Clarke walk down the hall. The towel she had on was pretty small, and her butt was looking pretty nice from this angle. He smirked, thinking about the way the towel was printed, and then shouted out, "Have a good shower, Princess," before the door closed, and Clarke whipped around to glare at him.
Genre: tv
100
Put Your Pants Back On
Chapter 1: Put Your Pants Back On
Clarke stood on the landing of the stairs in their makeshift hideout, wearing an uncharacteristically short dress and a cross look on her face.
"What do you mean take it off?" she asked.
"I mean put your damn pants back on, Clarke. You look pretty, but uncomfortable as hell," Bellamy replied.
"No shit, Sherlock, none of us really grew up getting fancy! And if you don't like how I look, why didn't you ask Raven to go?" Clarke retorted.
Raven let out a snort and let her leg cast hit the floor with a loud metal thunk. Clarke winced, then refocused on her belligerent opponent, the esteemed Bellamy Blake, whose arms were crossed with just as much stubbornness.
"There's Oct–" Clarke started to say.
"Out of the question," Bellamy's voice cut through hers like his hand through the air.
"Well, you didn't have to make me go through all this effort just to call me ugly–" Clarke began.
Bellamy growled. "You're fucking gorgeous, Clarke, but you can't fake the confidence that's needed."
Jasper tried to smile without being obvious. Monty only made it worse by leaning over and whispering, "Do you think Mom and Dad will ever kiss and make up? Or will we always be stuck in the divorce scare phase?"
Roan, who was present due to his intel that spawned this crazy yet potentially brilliant plot, looked at the two quizzically as Bellamy and Clarke both snapped their heads towards them. The two practically dissolved into giggles when both combatants yelled, "Cut that out!"
At the fond and exasperated look Clarke and Bellamy tossed each other, Jasper hit the ground from his laughter.
But the blonde was not cut out for this job. She knew it, too, which only compounded the anxiety in her shoulders.
Raven was smiling, too, and as Roan watched, Jasper's laughter took the edge off Clarke's shoulders. She couldn't charm a friendly kitten, but maybe she could at least overhear something before she gave herself away.
"Hey, Da– Bellamy, why don't you take Clarke to get a drink? I hear shots are the traditional social lubricant," Raven suggested.
The man in question narrowed his eyes at the mechanic, clearly unsure of how to take being almost called 'dad.' "You can't ask Clarke to go in buzzed. I want her back alive."
"Who said I was going to die?" Clarke asked.
"There's still a price for the Wanheda–" Bellamy started to say.
"Remind me why we can't just send Octavia? Who, you know, has learned the language like a native," Clarke said.
Bellamy shifted slightly, as if he were going to turn away, but his focus remained on Clarke. "Look, just go put your pants back on and we'll get one of the boys to go. Jasper's adorable. All the girls will talk to him."
Jasper and Monty both looked at each other in confusion.
"You are not going to send Jasper into an underground bunker party–" Clarke began.
"He can decide for himself–" Bellamy said.
"You mean you can decide, but ask him with just enough appeal to duty that he thinks it's his own decision–" Clarke retorted.
"You're not his mother!" Bellamy exclaimed.
"Oh, like you're better, Mr. Team Dad," Clarke shot back.
As Bellamy huffed, insulted, Jasper slipped Monty a few bills. "Damn, she caught on to the nicknames quick."
"Fine, put your pants on and then we'll take a volunteer from the guys." At that moment, Murphy strolled in from wherever he was. "Look, why don't we just send Murphy?"
"What?" Clarke asked.
Bellamy turned on him before Clarke could interject. "Want to go to a fancy party and eat free food? The price is gathering information."
With a bite of his apple and a shrug, Murphy replied, "Sure."
"There, problem solved. Now you can get comfortable again, Clarke," Bellamy said.
Unable to really protest, she huffed, and then again to mock Bellamy, before immediately stumbling back up the stairs from whence she came. At which point, Bellamy dropped onto the couch, utterly exhausted from the battle.
"Don't worry, Pops, I'm sure you'll win the next one," Murphy quipped.
When Murphy looked like a respectable gentleman for the first time in his life, and Clarke was back to her regular self, Bellamy pulled her aside.
"I'm sorry, I was out of line, it was rude of me–" Bellamy started to say.
"Just stop, Bellamy. I get it. We don't need to rehash this. My pride and self-esteem will recover. You haven't damaged it," Clarke said.
"Good, beautiful women shouldn't doubt themselves," Bellamy replied.
"Wait, hold up," she snapped, grabbing his arm so he couldn't vanish. "You think I'm pretty."
"Clarke, you're gorgeous. You looked absolutely stunning, which would've attracted more attention than you should have as an undercover agent; and honestly, the thought of some stranger staring at your legs was more than I could handle," Bellamy said.
She grinned, crossing her arms in triumph as he realized just exactly where his rambling had led.
"I didn't – I –" Bellamy stuttered.
Clarke reached up to gently cup his cheek. "Let's get through this, and then we'll talk, okay? And not just about your protector complex."