Hey Guys! Another snippet of an idea stuck in my head yet again! I've never done crossovers or lesbian fanfics before.. though I've read multiple lesbian fics...feel free to suggest any Bellice, Or Rosella's, or etc. Kinda of a slow start but it took me a while to figure out how to portray Alice. I was shooting for a sophisticated Alice but instead, I made her bubbly and talkative. Btw the actor for Alice doesn't look a lick like how I imagined her. But Twilight the graphic Novel looks exactly how I pictured her...

Another thing, in almost every fanfic that features Bella with a supernatural ability, the Cullens are always so fucking nosy! Like honestly it's annoying. Mind your fucking business Cullens! So I kinda took that annoying ass quality that ALL CULLENS have and amplified it with Alice. Don't get me wrong, I love Alice. But that inherited nosy quality for her just seems like the only believable flaw.

I really hope you guys like it! Also, you'll notice that I'm giving underappreciated 'side-characters' main roles in my story. In my opinion, Justin Chon (twilight's actor for Eric Yorkie) is cute and deserves a bigger role. Angela looks like Willow Sheilds, Primrose Everdeen, from The Hunger Games. Bella looks like Dallas (drop-dead hot actor Erika Linder) from the beautiful Lgbtia+ movie Below Her Mouth. It's good. The plots a little stereotypical but otherwise it's my bae. I seriously need a bae... When I said Bella's Amazonian built, I meant like Wonder Woman, the new movie you know? No over the top muscles, I mean she's not on steroids or anything...lol

Higurashi means sunset

I love Oc's, but they won't take up the storyline. Scouts Honor. *insert salute*

Also for some reason in Fanfiction's Doc Manager, I can't type in the regular form of 'Mister' or 'Miss' so I'm being forced to write it out completely. Anyone know why that is?

"So..have you talked to her yet?"

"Hmm?" Alice Higurashi continued to work at her drawing board, diligently sectioning off the paper with a skill of habit. "Who am I talking to?"

There was a long and gusty sigh—one that had Alice fighting to keep her lips from twitching. She knew her first-floor neighbor Eric Houshi well—and understood exactly what she he was referring to.

"That gorgeous Miss Mysterious in 3C, Ally. Come on, she moved in a week ago and hasn't said a word to anyone. But you're right across the hall. We need some details here."

"I've been pretty busy."

Alice flickered a glance up, watching Eric, with his expressive violet eyes and Shaggy mop of inky black hair, energetically pace around her studio.

"Hardly even noticed her."

Eric's first response was a snort. "You notice everything."

Eric wandered over to the drawing board, hanging over Alice's shoulder, then wrinkled his nose. Even though her blue lines were razor sharp straight, they were boring. He liked it better when Alice started sketching in the sections.

"She doesn't even have a name in the mailbox yet. And nobody ever sees her leave the building during the day. Not even Mister Whitlock has seen her, and nobody gets by him."

"Maybe she's a vampire."

"W-ow." Running with the idea Eric scratched the back of his head. "Would that be cool or what?"

"To cool," Alice agreed and continued to prep her drawing as Eric danced around the studio and chattered on.

It never bothered Alice to have company while she worked. That the fact was she enjoyed it. She'd never been one for isolation and quiet. It was the reason she was happily living in New York, happy to be settled and in a small building with a handful of unapologetically nosy neighbors with a fairly good head for fashion.

Of all the occupants of the old converted Warehouse, Eric was Alice's favorite. Four years earlier when Alice had moved in, Eric had been an energetic newlywed who fervently believed that everyone should be as blissfully happy as he was himself.

'Meaning', Alice mused 'married.'

Now the father of a seriously adorable 8-month-year-old Angela Eric was only more committed to his cause. And Alice knew she herself was his primary objective.

"Haven't you ever run into her in the hall?" Eric wanted to know.

"Not yet," Idly Alice picked up a pencil, tapped it against her full, pouty bottom lip. Her long eyelashes brought out the green of her eyes... as clear as the sea at twilight and might have been exotic or sultry if they weren't always shimmering with amusement or humor. "Actually, Whitlock's losing his touch. I've seen her leave the building during the day-which, unfortunately, rules out the vampire status."

"You have?" Instantly caught, Eric dragged a rolling stool over to the drawing board. "When? Where? How?"

"When-twilight. Where? Heading south on Pequena. How? Insomnia." Feeling sucked into to his gossiping, Alice swiveled her on her stool. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Woke up early, and I kept thinking about the brownies left over from the other night."

"Addictive brownies," Eric agreed.

"Yep, So I couldn't get back to sleep till I had one. Since I was already up, I came in here to work for a while and ended up standing at the window. I saw her go out. You can't miss her. She must be 6"4. And those muscles.."

Both bisexuals rolled their eyes in appreciation.

"Anyway, she was carrying a gym bag and wearing original Adidas leggings-with the signature three stripes- and an oversized vintage coral pink hoodie, so I assume she was out heading to the gym to work out. You don't get those muscles by lying around eating chips and drinking beer all day."

"A-ha!" Eric jabbed his finger on Alice's forehead. "You are interested."

"I'm not dead, 'Ric. The woman's dangerously gorgeous, and you add the air of mystery along with a tight butt..." Her hands, rarely still, spread wide. "What's a girl to do but wonder?"

"Why wonder? Why don't you go knock on her door, and take her some cookies or something? Welcome her to the neighborhood. Then you can find you find out what she does in their all day, and if she's single, what she does for a living. If she's single. What-"

He broke off, head lifting, alert. "Angela's waking up."

"I didn't hear a thing." Alice turned her head, aiming an ear toward the doorway, listened, shrugged. "I swear, 'Ric since Angela was born you have ears like a wolf."

"I'm going to change her and take her for a walk. Come with?"

"No, can't. Work."

"See you tonight then. Din-dins at 7."

"Right." Alice smiled as Eric dashed off to retrieve Angela from the bedroom where he'd put her down for a nap.

Dinner at seven. With 'Ric's boring and irritating step-cousin Tyler. 'When am I finally gonna grow some balls and tell Eric to stop trying to hook me up?'

'Probably,' she decided 'when I tell Mister Whitlock the same thing. And, Miss Cope on the first floor, and... my dry cleaner. What was up with everybody in her life trying to find her a partner so bad?'

She was 24, single, and happy. Not that she didn't want a big family one day. Maybe a nice house, with a spacious backyard...Oh, and of course she just had to have pets. Koi fish and a German Shepard named Jazz.

But no cats.

She was allergic to them, sadly. But not now. That was for some other time. She liked her life as it was.

She rested her elbows on her drawing board, propped her chin on her fists, and began gazing out of her window-daydreaming. "Must be spring," she murmured to herself. 'Maybe that was why I'm so restless and full of energy.'

She thought about going on that walk with 'Ric and Angela, after all, and quickly jumped up. Intent on catching them before they slammed the door.

"Bye Midget!" Eric called out, not noticing Alice as he tucked Angela into the black bab-carrier. As Alice waited on him, she silently happy about his fashion choices. He wore a black boulevard bomber jacket, plain black V-neck, which showed his chest tattoo of an army-green star, thick square glasses, khaki joggers, all black Vans, and his signature a grey beanie. Baby Anglea was dressed in thick white tights, a black jacket, black boots, and a gold beanie.

"Awwe," Alice cooed as she came forward to Eskimo kiss the tiny baby.

"Remember seven-"

"I know I know," Alice cut him off and kissed his cheek.

Huffing Eric grinned and blew her a kiss before slamming the door behind him.

Wincing, Alice sighed and wondered to her kitchen. 'I should be working...'

Sighing, Alice sat down at her drawing board and began sketching in the first section of her comic strip "Unapologetically Neighbours".

She was a natural at drawing or anything having to do with art. Her mother was a successful, internationally known artist; her father a happy house-husband but the best poet she'd ever met.

Together, they had provided both her and her sibling's overwhelming love of art in all art forms, and a solid foundation.

Before she left the security of her home in Maine, she'd know she'd be welcome back if New York rejected her.

But it hadn't.

For over 3 years now her strip had grown in popularity. She was proud of it. Proud of the simplicity, the warmth, and humor. The fact that she was able to create humor with everyday characters and everyday situations made her work extremely popular.

For her, it was life that made her laugh. Being stuck in line at the store, finding the right pair of shoes, surviving another blind date...Etc. While many saw her main protagonist, Jessica, as autobiographical, she cared for her as her child but never recognize the reflection.

Besides, Jessica was a sultry, dirty blonde who had trouble with luck and men.

Alice was a pixie cut brunette, barely 5ft with a successful career. As for partners..well..they weren't an important enough priority for her to worry or invest in.

Not to say she didn't believe in flings. As long as the flings stayed a one time only basis.

Scowling, she realized that she was tapping her pencil instead of using it. Maybe..she needed a break.

She absentmindedly pushed her pencil behind her ear and left her sun-drenched studio. Her apartment was completely open, aside from her studio space, which was why she snatched it up so quickly. Along, ivory service bar separated the kitchen from the living room, leaving the lower level all one area. Tall windows let in light and the street noises were somewhat barricaded by the sound-proofing installation.

She moved with a natural grace-inherited by her father. What her Mother called 'grandeur grace'. She had tiny limbs that had been surprisingly well suited for her many ballet lessons-lessons she begged for as a child and then slowly dropped over the years. Every now and then, she'd do a flawless pirouette. Barefooted, she danced into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pondered.

'I could whip up something interesting..' She mused, eyeing the contents of the fridge warily.

She'd had cooking lessons to-and hadn't become bored with them until she'd out-thought her instructor in creativity. Then she heard it-and sighed. The music carried through the walls, across the short hallway outside her door.

'Sad, and sexy,' she thought. 'The quiet sob of the alto sax...'

'Miss Mysterious in 3C didn't play every day, but I wish that she would...'

It always..stirred her, those long liquid notes and the swirls of emotion behind them.

'Was she a struggling musician?' she wondered randomly. 'Brokenhearted, no doubt,' she continued her usual wild imaginative thoughts as she pulled out ingredients. 'A woman or man did this to her, a wild, punk-rockish red-headed chic-or man (But if it was a man, he'd be strawberry-colored). Caught her under her/his spell, trapped her soul, then crushed her heart under her/his six-inch Martin heeled boots.'

Yesterday she'd come up with a completely new storyline for her new mystery neighbor. One where she was horribly abused as a child, and at the tender age of 17, she'd run away from it all. Survived on the streets by singing- before she met a kind old man who gave her his dead son's sax-then she'd make her way north, as her evil rich family continued to search for her. She hadn't worked out why her family was searching, but that wasn't really important. Only that she was on the constant run, and only comforted by her music.

Or she was some poor foster kid, bounced around from house to house until some sick serial killer murdered her new family in front of her and forced her to run from him until he found her again and tortured her all over.

Or an international spy, protecting some unknown new mutation that allowed humans to be more than just human.

She laughed at herself, then looked down at her ingredients and then laughed again. 'Whoever my neighbor is, apparently I'm making her cookies!'


Her name was Bella Marie Black. She wouldn't have called herself necessarily ... mysterious just-


It was an ingrained need of privacy that lead her to the heart of the world's busiest cities. 'Temporarily,' she murmured to no know one in particular, as she slipped her sax into its velvet case. 'In another couple of months, the rehab will be completed on my house in Cali's coast.' Some called it a private paradise, and that was fine her. 'A woman could be alone for as long as she felt like it...no one gets in unless I decide to lift my gates.'

She moved back upstairs, leaving behind a barren living room. She only used it to play- the acoustics were spot on- so decoration wasn't necessary. Or to work out if she was feeling too lazily to go to the gym. She lived in the second floor-'Temporarily' she reminded herself again.

'All I really need is a bed, dresser, and the right lighting for selfies...obviously.. and a desk for my mac book, a DVD player, and the paperwork I have to deal with from time to time.' She barely kept her android on her, but her agent had forced a cell phone on her and had pleaded with her to keep it on her person. And she did-until she didn't feel like it.

Bella sat at her desk, pleased with her practice. Lauren, her agent, was busy smacking on her spearmint gum and inspecting her French manicure. But her foot was tapping impatiently, signally her impatience over Bella's latest performance. Bella would have told her to chill out...If she actually cared.

But Bella figured it wasn't worth it. She'd be one when she was done, and not a minute before.

'The trouble with success,' she thought, 'was that it was that it became its own...entity.'

'Once you did something people liked, they wanted you to do it over and over again. But this time faster, and the next time bigger.'

Bella didn't give a fuck about what people wanted. 'They can bust down the doors of my theater to see my next play, give me another Pulitzer, shower me with more Tony's and bring yours truly money by the truckloads...'

...'Or they could stay the hell outta my way and nuclear bomb my work and demand their money back. Only the work actually mattered and only had to matter to me'.

Bella huffed and blew her hair outta her face.


Financially, she was secure, always had been. Lauren said that was a part of her problem. Without the need..or desire for money to keep her hungry she was 'arrogant' and 'aloof' from her audience.

Bella chuckled and smoothed down her hair. 'Then again,' she thought with a smirk, 'She also said that was what made me a genius. Because I don't give a flying monkey's ass'.

She sat in the big room, a tall, Amazonian woman with shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair (with her natural brunette roots showing-and proudly). Her intense hazel eyes scanned the words already typed. Her mouth was full and permanently etched in a frown, her face narrow, high cheekbones and essentially a Tumblr butch handsomeness.

She tuned out the street sounds and let herself drift back into the soul of the woman she'd created inside of her mac book. A queer struggling desperately to create her own desires...

Her Buzzer interrupted her.

Swearing profanity like the professional she was at it, she considered scowling and waiting it out, then factored in bathroom breaks and decided it was best to scare off the poor sucker who dared to knock on her door.

'Probably the eagle-eyed man from the first floor,' Bella grumped as she headed down. 'He's already harassed me twice when I booked it for the club last evening.'

Bella was excellent at evading, but it was becoming tiresome real quick.

But when Bella checked her peephole, she didn't see the prim old man with his bright bird eyes, cowboy boots, and long blonde hair.

Instead, there was a pretty black-haired real-life pixie chic with gorgeous big green eyes. 'She's the chic from across the hall!' Bella realized after 30 seconds of solid eye-raping. Then, she scowled immediately after her aha moment. 'What the fuck did she want?' She'd figured that after an almost week passing of her leaving Bella alone, she'd keep her distance. 'Which made her the perfect next-door neighbor,' Bella thought with a twitch of her upper lip.

Cranky that this hot chic ruined her own potential to be the greatest next door neighbor ever, Bella opened the door and casually leaned against it. "Yeah?"



'She's even better looking up close...' Alice thought with an appreciatively.

"I'm Alice Higurashi. 3A?" She flashed her a bright, friendly smile and pointed to her own door.

Miss Mysterious only raised a dark, winged eyebrow. "So?"

'Okay, a woman of few words,' Alice thought and continued to smile- even though she wished she could see the interior of her neighbors' apartment. And she couldn't just barge her way past to see her apartment-could she?


'No, I'd seem like some lonely, mothering harpy. She'd think that I'm prying. Which I'm not.'


"I heard you playing a while ago. I work at home and the sound travels." Alice tried again, conversationally.

Bella's eyes hardened. 'If she's here to bitch about the noise, she'd be sorely disappointed to hear that I don't give a fuck.' Bella thought.

'I play when I feel like it,' Bella continued to stare at the green-eyed chic coolly-her pert breasts, button nose, sensuous mouth, the chubby but dainty looking feet with sassily painted matte black nails.

'I usually forget to turn on my playlist while I'm working," she went on cheerfully, making Bella notice a tiny dimple that winked off and on beside her mouth. "So it's nice to hear you play. Mimi and Jeff were into heavy metal and rag-time jazz. Which is fine only.."

Randomly Bella wondered when she'd get to the point. .." And Mimi said she'd cut him if he didn't. Mister Whitlock said he gives them six months. Anyway.."

Alice held out the strangely adorable Halloween plate with a small mountain of white macadamia chocolate-chip cookies heaped onto it, wrapped with clear plastic over it. "I bought you some cookies."

Bella glanced down, giving Alice a brief moment to steal a chance to peek at her apartment. 'Poor girl can't even afford a couch,' her heart went out to Mysterious 3C. Then Bella's eyes flickered to hers.


"Why..?" Alice repeatedly, confused.

"Why'd you bring me cookies?"

"Oh, well, I was baking them. Sometimes I like to cook to clear my head when I can't concentrate on my work. Usually, baking does the trick. And if I keep them all, I end up eating them all and hating myself." Her dimple kept fluttering. "Who doesn't like cookies?"

"I've got nothing against them."

"Well then, enjoy." Alice pushed them into her hands. "Welcome to the gaybourhood. If you need anything, I'm usually around." Again, Bella watched her expressive and petite hands flutter with another gesture. "If you want to get to know who's who around here, I can fill you in. I've lived around here for a few years now, so everyone's basically family."

"I won't." She stepped back and slammed the door in Alice's face.

W-o-w! This is THEE MOST I've EVER written on here, before! Yay goals!

IDK how ppl willingly do this torture all day long...it's horribly impulsive. I HAD to finish this at this exact place or I was going to go loco.

Anyway, I ADORE Ass-hole Bella! She is so much fun to write.

Anyone else a fan?