After Lizzie's explicit invitation to write outrageous stuff about her, I was actually a tiny bit disappointed in the crazy fandom world for failing to take her up on it. I think, as of last night, there was ONE Lizzie Bennet Diaries fanfic. Well, I feel like I've been issued a challenge. :]
Disclaimer: I do not own even the tiniest bit of rights to P&P (public domain) or LBD (private domain). Not even a crumb, sadly. Just having some innocent fun.
These are little 'moments' that come from all different points in the plotline, so don't expect to read them in any particular order. #3 might come from episode 35, and #4, from episode 2. There's really no rhyme or reason to it. Sorry. My brain, unfortunately, doesn't always cooperate with chronological order. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Lizzie sauntered into the 'lounge'- whatever (that was what Caroline called it, right?), but immediately spotted the snob sitting on the opposite end of the room. She groaned. Couldn't that obnoxious jerk find some other place to do his work? There had to be fifty thousand rooms in this house! WHY, why did he always have to situate himself in the one place that held all the books?
Lizzie paused for a moment, and weighed her options. She could go back upstairs…and…re-read Hunger Games for the fifth time. Or, she could…..umm….work more on her video blog, but no, she had already sent Charlotte the material for the rest of the week, and anyway, she didn't feel like talking about her nemesis anymore. It was quite enough having to share the same house with him, regardless of how huge a house it was.
There was nothing for it.
Lizzie took a deep breath, and entered the room fully, approaching the bookcases on the far side with care. And she had almost made it, until—
"You're into Jane Austen?"
Lizzie spun around, snatching her hand away from the novel for which it had been reaching.
"What's it to you what I read? " Lizzie frowned.
"I only meant that you should probably—"
"Well, you should probably stay out of my business. Just because you disapprove of classic anything doesn't mean you can start condemning my taste in books." She scoffed and turned back to the bookshelf, but she had suddenly lost her desire to read anything. At that moment, she was seething and wanted nothing but to wipe that stupid disapproving stare off Darcy's face.
What, was he criticizing her book choices now?! What concern was it of his what she read?! Besides, he probably was some stupid closet Twilight fan anyway. She bet he was secretly into trashy teen novels and fanfiction. She snorted. He was probably on his computer right at this moment, reading all the crazy stuff her video blog followers were now writing about them….
Lizzie suddenly felt a lurch in her stomach, and tried not to blush as she put that thought out of her head. No. No one would be crazy enough to write fanfiction about her and Darcy, of all people…
"Oh, leave me alone and go back to your stupid fanfic," she snapped, and stalked back out of the room empty-handed, failing to notice Darcy's perplexed look.
When she got to the hall, she immediately regretted leaving behind the copy of Pride and Prejudice. She sighed. It probably wasn't one of Austen's better novels anyway. Though it might've given her something to do…
Cursing that she had, in the small span of time she spent in the lounge, failed to procure a new book, Lizzie muttered to herself as she began to climb the stairs back to her room.
"I really need to get a job…"