A/N: Sorry if this isn't the best story here. This is my first story on the site, so please don't hate. I either just won't respond or remove the review. Hopefully you will like this story. I do need help, so please review on what I'm bad at. Just don't be like "HEY U. UR STORY SUX," or anything like that. Otherwise, I hope you like and review this fic. This isn't a one-shot, and pay attention to this chapter. This, and the next, sets up the plot. Hope you enjoy! Now, on with the story.
Frisk woke to the obnoxious sound of "BEEP - BEEP - BEEP." Her alarm clock. She hit the snooze button, wishing she didn't forget to turn it off yesterday, for it was Saturday. Her grades in 7th grade were okay, average for the normal 13-year-old. It had been three years since she climbed that mountain. Mt. Ebott. Boy that fall hurt; she sometimes had nightmares about it. So far the humans were getting along well with the monsters. Still some monster-human racism acts, but only small ones - like graffiti, or just acts of hate. Asgore was the vice ambassador to monsters, and so far was getting along well with most of the human society.
Oh yeah... Frisk thought, ... that dang Flower. She was so tired she didn't hear the annoyed screeches Flowey gave off, with that odd face. "WATER ME," and "TURN THAT OFF," Flowey exclaimed. The girl had to take care of the potted plant... Oh great. She got up...
...right into a face-full of "Friendliness Pellets." Owww! At least he couldn't do anything else, besides that and yell. She really needed to keep her guard up. Frisk got up, and gingerly dodged another set of pellets. She ducked under the bed partly for cover, and partly for the tiny spray bottle of old weed killer. She got up, with the MTT Brand (He produced a lot of more items, and even had his own beauty shop in the mall) weed killer in her hand, and immediately Flowey stopped in his tracks. They both know she was never going to use it, but it still sure worked on the weeds in Toriel's garden. Toriel! She should've made some Butterscotch Pie today! She makes it every Saturday.
Frisk could smell the wonderful cinnamon wafting down the hallway from the fresh pie. She has grown very fond of cinnamon-butterscotch pie. She even tried snail pie once. Once. She couldn't get the taste out of her mouth. On the other hand, Toriel saw their pet Temmie wandering around in the kitchen. "Oh just look at you!" Toriel scooped the Temmie up - mid "awawawawa," - and set her down at the dinner table. Flowey didn't like the family pet, but Temmie was too stupid to understand why. Toriel skipped over to the fridge, got the step stool, and reached for the Temmie Flakes.
"Oh. I forgot," Frisk said out loud. She had to get the flower. Probably screeching as loud as possible out that window, waking up the neighbors. Stupid buttercup. She ran back as fast as she could, which happened to be as loud as she could, too. She snagged the flower from her room, covering his mouth right before he could scream, "ILL KILL YOU ALL!" She didn't know why she was rushing but still did anyway. She forgot to close the door. She ran back making as much as a ruckus, and Toriel jumped, almost losing her MTT brand pie cutter (Mettaton really does make anything these days). She plopped down in her seat after serving herself a pie, and Frisk plopped Flowey down as well, and as hard. Temmie almost hissed, before Toriel picked up a Tem Flake and plopped it in her mouth. "tEM love TEM flAKEs! awawawawa!" Frisk stroked the fur - or hair - of the ball of cute. "Just look at you," Frisk said.
The Temmie got up and walked into the hall. "Nobody knows what she does in my room, mom," wondered Frisk. After they all got their fill on Toriel's soon-to-be world famous pie, and Flowey got some water and fresh fertilizer, Toriel suggested, "Why don't you go take buttercup to your room, child?" "You can see what Temmie does in there." Frisk exclaimed, excitedly, "Ok!" She ran off to her room to place the flower down, and gawked at the cute thing on her bed. The Tem was doing the strangest things, kicking little stubby arms and legs in the air, rolling around - almost falling off - and anything else.
Frisk left briskly, and walked through the old house to the door. She wanted to see Sans and Papyrus. They were doing well in their new life, their life on the surface. Papyrus had his beloved red car that he didn't really need, and also his cooking skills had expanded upon just spaghetti making. He could make anything from linguine to moose cake, but pasta was still what he was best at. Sans, on the other hand, was a famous comedian. No wonder he was, with all his jokes and puns he made when Frisk fell through. His joking skills (if you could call it that) have also grown beyond snow puns. He could make even Chara crack up!
Frisk walked through the door of the quaint household, and strutted out with her purple and blue sweater. Off to see the skele-bros, she thought. She could almost taste Papyrus' wonderful cooking, and hear Papyrus actually laughing at Sans' jokes.