Jackson Fuller House Novels & Stories

“You said it yourself, Harold, Alyson and Jim are smart. I’m sure they’ve discussed everything. It’s overwhelming for us all, and getting worked up isn’t going to help anything, especially with Alyson having morning sickness.” Jackson looks up from the phone. “You sick, Aunt Winnie?” “No, I’m okay,” I tell him with a smile. If my kid turns out to be half as sweet as him, we’ll be just fine. “Why is Papa mad?” he asks, turning around to look at Weston, who doesn’t know how to answer. “He’s not mad,” Weston finally says. “Why don’t you go play in the living room?” “Okay,” Jackson says and slides off Weston’s lap. He runs around to Jim. “Play trucks with me?”

He agrees and I tell him I'll chat with him later. We chat for a little while longer then our food arrives. We wash our hands and eat together continuing our chat. Jackson is so excited about the game that he can't stop talking about it. I tell him I'll get him some school spirit wear to wear to the game. Journee tells us more about the play that they're putting on at the school this spring and the role she's looking to acquire. We encourage her to fight hard for what she wants. We talk about what we think our parents are doing while they're away.

A beat of silence passed before the sheets were suddenly yanked off, and Azalea let out a long, weary sigh. "Come on, you can't hide forever," Jackson's voice was warm, almost teasing. "We need to grab our schedules. You've forgotten about school, haven't you, my dear friend?" Azalea's eyes narrowed at him from beneath the tangle of her hair, her expression sharp, but Jackson only responded with a grin, his dimple making a quiet, unmistakable appearance. A quiet sigh escaped him as he flopped into the blue beanbag on his side of the room. "By the way," he added, almost lazily, "Jett Fogger's throwing a party at his parents' loft tonight. It's going to be... unforgettable."

“You said it yourself, Harold, Quinn and Archer are smart. I’m sure they’ve discussed everything. It’s overwhelming for us all, and getting worked up isn’t going to help anything, especially with Quinn having morning sickness.” Jackson looks up from the phone. “You sick, Aunt Winnie?” “No, I’m okay,” I tell him with a smile. If my kid turns out to be half as sweet as him, we’ll be just fine. “Why is Papa mad?” he asks, turning around to look at Weston, who doesn’t know how to answer. “He’s not mad,” Weston finally says. “Why don’t you go play in the living room?” “Okay,” Jackson says and slides off Weston’s lap. He runs around to Archer. “Play trucks with me?”

Promising to see each other tomorrow to make gingerbread houses. "I don't know about you guys but I'm exhausted." Jackson huffed, flopping back on the couch and putting his feet on the table. "Remember you're in the office." My mom reminded him. "That isn't fair." He groaned. "I'm not making Olivia take the blow up. She's the guest." "But I'm your favorite child." Jackson whined. "Dream on. We all know I am the favorite. I'm the baby." I stuck my tongue out at him. Everyone knows the youngest is the favorite.

Zharn gifted Dad the large truck to make moving easy, but Papa refused, saying he'd pay him back in installments instead. "Babe." Sophie squealed. Papa flinched. He still wasn't used to it. He'll have to at some point. We'll have to leave his house someday. My sister lunged herself into her boyfriend, circling her legs around his waist and hugging him. Those passionate fools. "You guys ready to go?" Jax asked. "Yeah, we're all done." I told him. "Zharn made us late, he just had to stop to get us moving gifts." Jax rolled his eyes.

he chuckles. Jackson laughs as he watches me launch myself at Richard on the couch, Jackson jumps up and I end up in a sandwich like a piece of meat between two slices of bread. The laughter and squealing coming from the family room brings more chaos as Momma and Daddy open the door and stand there taking in the scene. Dad clears his throat, “uhm, I believe today is a big day for someone and rough housing is not in the plans. Jackson jumps off me, but Richard doesn’t let go and he snuggles me to him, “she’s my sister, I don’t have to let her go.”

Date = 8 November Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house) POV - Damion I stare at the tiny black-and-white photo in the locket. It’s old and a little faded — like it’s been dragged through time. But it clearly is a young family — mom, dad, brother, and sister. “That’s Harry and his family.” Jackson is walking up and down my living room. It’s the Blackburn way of thinking … they all do that. But they also have their own unique thing, too.

I say as he put his arm around and he chuckled while he kissed me. I then looked around at all the strangers around the packhouse. "They apparently didn't have anywhere else to sleep. But they were all told to stay off of the top floor otherwise we would kill them when we got back." Jackson explained. "Everyone knew for sure that we were coming back?" I asked. "Of course they did. They knew that we wouldn't abandon them." He says. "Where are the kids?" I asked. "Hope's asleep and Wyatt is playing with some kids in the living room." He says. So I walked through to the kitchen and there were a lot of people in there as well. But I forced my way through to get to the kettle and I started making

The car pulled into our apartment complex and rolled into its parking spot. Mom carried the cake box. Dad carefully held the Barbie doll. They smiled as they went upstairs, whispering about how they would surprise me. I followed them through the lobby, the elevator, the hallway, and finally through our front door. The living room lights came on. "Lily, we're home," Mom called, her voice bright. "Look what Mom and Dad got you!" No one answered. Dad placed the Barbie doll on the coffee table, right beside the cracked old one.