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March 2nd excerpt:

With something that strange going on, it was assumed that the still-human-sized human would be coming to the village to investigate. Even so, when the duffel clattered loudly to the ground, the noise did cause a few sprites to falter in surprise, sending Dean stern looks before going about their business again. It was doubtful anyone missed his walking up, but giant steps were easier to ignore knowing the giants were safe.

But really, that had been loud.

Definitely loud enough that Jacob, who was back in Bowman’s house, had no doubts that his friends had arrived.

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March 1st excerpt:

At one point, sitting casually in the living room, the sprites all seemed to simultaneously notice the shiny metal zipper keeping his black hoodie (an article of clothing that seemed to provide endless entertainment to the nestlings when he was the right size, always hiding leaves and seeds in the hood or pockets) closed. Bowman had seemed so unduly fascinated by the simple workings of it, but then again Jacob always reminded himself that the sprites were so isolated from humans that Bowman didn’t even know what they were when he met them.

They’d all wanted to try the zipper, just to see it in action on their scale. Jacob grinned faintly as Rischa zipped up his hoodie while he crouched for her. Her golden eyes were full of wonder at the “human magic." 

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February 28th excerpt:

Jacob definitely heard the tone in Dean’s voice. There was a smirk bigger than Dallas on the hunter’s face right now, and Jacob knew it. Not that he wouldn’t expect it. Perhaps it could be considered funny, if he weren’t the butt of the joke. He wouldn’t say anything to offend the folks who were used to being this small, but… he definitely liked being tall better.

That damned shit-eating grin on Dean’s face was probably bigger than he was right now.

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It really depends on the littles in question! There’s no “they like it” or “they hate it” here.

Someone like Walt or Arthur would see it as unnecessary, a frivolous pursuit for humans who don’t have to spend their days trying to survive. On the flipside, Mallory would love to discover embroidery, and how to do it for herself. She could spruce up their home, add some more splashes of color to brighten the place up.

In Britain, with the closer knit society, they don’t need to focus solely on survival. Some of the borrowers over there spend most of their lives sewing, and if they want to add some flourish to the fabric, they can do so. They trade for what they need, resulting in more specialized skillsets over the pond.

Restless

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The first time the baby kicked, it was a happy announcement. Melanie’s mother had fussed about it for the whole day afterward, and her father kept smirking to himself when he thought no one was looking. He might pretend to be stoic, but he was just as excited for the new baby as they all were.

More kicks came after that. Melanie could feel her baby getting used to its own little legs. If her mother had a hand on her belly at the right time, she felt it, too.

It’s a feisty little one, she’d say. You’ll have to keep your eyes on it.

They had no idea if the baby would be a boy or a girl. All Melanie knew for certain was that it kicked more and more every day. Sometimes the lurching feeling came right in the middle of the night.

One of those nights, she lay awake in her bed alcove, staring at the ceiling above and slowly rubbing a hand over the ever-growing bump. The baby fidgeted within her.

“I know you’re ready to come out now,” she muttered. “But you need a little more time. Just a bit. I can’t wait to meet you.”

There was a pause. Things settled. Melanie’s eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion creeping in.

Another kick. She drew in a surprised breath and opened her eyes again. The child couldn’t know what time it was, how tired she was. It was restless.

“I think you get that from your dad,” she mumbled. “I don’t think he’d be the type to sit around much, either.”

She shifted around, seeking a comfortable position that might put the kid to sleep. She had a feeling that carrying this child now was nothing to what was to come. Once it arrived, there’d be no stopping it.

She couldn’t be more pleased.

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February 27th excerpt:

A loud guitar riff cut through the room, startling Sam in his seat and nearly causing him to scribble across his current page. They rarely got any phone calls, so it was a shock to hear. Sam turned towards the bathroom, where Dean was brushing his teeth (or so Sam assumed from the noises he could hear). “Hey, Dean!” he hollered, working hard to project his soft voice across the gap between them. “Phone!”

After a muffled reply from Dean, Sam got up and wandered over to the phone, one of those new smartphones with a touch screen that made it easy for him to use at his size. He smiled when he saw it was Jacob, but before he could hit the button to answer, Dean was stomping noisily over, trying to wipe his face off with a towel. Sam made a face. His experience with motel cleaning crews didn’t make him eager to use any of the towels in the room.

Dean’s hand swept down, scooping up the phone while Sam was offered his other hand in a far more careful motion.

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February 26th excerpt:

Jacob hesitated before taking that last step and leaning on SEND; up until now, he’d merely had a view of trees and birds and squirrels at his new (hopefully not permanent) size. Calling Dean meant he’d be asking someone over six feet tall to come to his aid.